Night time, interrupted

I awake to the familiar sound and fumble on the nightstand for my phone to check the time.


Ugh. 4:39. AM.

Like so many other early mornings, I groan as I drag myself from the warmth of my bed and make my way across the house, careful not to kick, step on, or trip over any stray toys that may have been left out. I roll my eyes again at the neighbors behind us, who insist on leaving their back porch flood light on every night, though I am a bit thankful for the glow it casts in my house.

Pausing just outside her door, I rub my groggy eyes and listen for more sounds that tell me she hasn’t gone back to sleep on her own. 

She hasn’t.

She sees me as I enter the room, and her cries soften as she clings to me when I pick her up and give her a small hug. She gets impatient while I go through the motions, automatic after so many nights, of changing her diaper and zipping up her jammies. As I awkwardly situate us into the glider, she knows what’s coming, and her impatience grows but is quickly pacified as she begins to nurse.

I lean my head back and rock the creaking glider slowly, wondering how long this will take. I’m so tired, and all I can think about is sliding back into my warm, comfortable bed. I barely even notice when her hand, always reaching up to sweetly explore my facial features or tug at my collar, drops down to rest on her side. I have no idea how long we sit there, dozing together.

Suddenly I’m startled awake by the feeling of her pulling away. I look down to see that she has rolled onto her back, snuggled amongst the blankets I have in my lap to keep us both warm. She’s sound asleep, her little arms are thrown upward, resting near her head, her mouth a little more than slightly open. Her long eyelashes rest peacefully on her smooth porcelain cheeks.

I take her all in. She’s so much bigger than the little baby I brought home eleven months ago, yet still so small in my lap. She’s growing so fast, and soon these long nights of interrupted sleep will be a thing of the past, as I have often hoped.

But this moment is different. I force my tired eyes open so I can gaze at her sweet sleeping face, so perfect in the darkness. I take in the size of her little body stretched across my lap. I relish in each warm exhalation that softly sweeps across my face. 

Suddenly I don’t care so much about going back to my warm bed to finish my night’s rest. I’m content to stay here as long as she will let me.

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12 Comments

  1. So very beautiful! Such a reminder of how quickly time passes and how as parents we both look forward to the future, and want to slow down the present.

    Just beautiful!

  2. Simply lovely.
    Those small moments are magic…all we have to do is see them.
    Thank you for sharing this with me.

  3. Oh, I really love this. Amazing how that feeling all of a sudden hits you…that moments like these are truly fleeting. Just when we wonder when in the world we'll get our sleep, our bodies back…the realization that the day is soon approaching makes us want to hold on to the moments more.

    Beautifully expressed here.

  4. This is so sweet! I can't believe how fast they are growing. This brought tears to my eyes. Time is moving too quickly.

  5. those beautiful moments. we really do have to keep reminding ourselves to slow down and enjoy them, even through the exhaustion.

  6. This brought it all back. Those precious stolen moments, when it's just you, your baby and the moon. Gorgeous. Simply gorgeous.

  7. I loved this post. My babies are now 11 and 13, but I remember a time with each of them where I paused while they slept in my arms. And I soaked up every detail. And I thought to myself, "No one can ever take this moment away from me. I will have it always."

    And I do. I still have those moments. And even though my babies are growing and growing and growin, no one can take them away.

    Thanks for sharing your moment. And thanks to Nichole for bringing me here.

  8. Very nice post LA. It brought tears to my eyes as I pictured myself in your words. I will forever those sweet and precious midnight interruptions.

  9. That is so beautiful. It brought tears to my eyes, as I have done the same thing with Cheyenne. We are always so ready for them to "get out of this stage" or unable to wait until they can do a specific thing that we forget to just take in the sweet moments that we have every day and then we look back and wonder where our baby went. I loved this post. You are such a great mom and I love you!!

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