Flashback: Nursing at Midnight

I don’t have the funny today.  But I do have a favorite old journal entry of mine.  An early Flashback Friday, if you will.

Written March 20, 2010

***

Henry cried just before midnight and I went in to nurse him.  He’s too old for this really, but I don’t have the heart or the stomach to resist him these days.  So I just go.  Usually with a huff and a puff, but tonight with so much relief to be needed for something.  My husband called.  “Why is your voice so hoarse?” he asks.  “Because I haven’t spoken since you left six hours ago.”  Not meant as an accusation, but coming off as one anyway.

So, he cries and I go to him.  We sit in the rocking chair and I admire the way his legs cross gracefully and rest on the top of my thigh.  So relaxed.  He eats and my mind wanders.  I do not rock.  He doesn’t like rocking, I don’t think.  So we are still.  I notice how his hand fumbles around the pacifier clipped to his pajamas.  Aimlessly.  Even in sleep, he is slightly agitated.  My poor boy.  What have I passed on to you?

I lay him down in the crib after a while.  He cries out in protest.  I run my hand over his forehead and then put the pacifier in his mouth.  He promptly flips over and sticks his butt in the air, the way babies do.  How I mourned the loss of that sleeping position when my eldest abandoned it.  Growing up and sleeping on his side.

I pause at the door now and take in Sam.  He is, as I said, lying on his side.  He’s been asleep for over 5 hours now, but his new Hot Wheels car is still clutched tightly in his hand. The passion with which he loves it.  Even in a sleep where a screaming baby does not rouse him, he refuses to let the car drop.

My heart beats for them in this moment.  Their sweetness in sleep.  I want to lie down in the middle of the floor just to listen to them breathe.  But I steal one more glance and leave, dutifully.

***

Dear Current Self-

Slow down.

Love,

Your Old Self