Sometimes-quite often, really- I tiptoe softly into her bedroom. I open the door slowly, and wait for the loud creaking before I walk any farther. It's pitch black, and I sit in the rocking chair until my eyes can adjust to the room. I can finally make out the linear bars of her crib. I am able to distinguish her tiny toes and fluffs of hair.
Then I can sit down next to her, and tuck her foot back in through one of the slots, move the stuffed animal a little farther away, and drape the baby quilt that Grandma quilted over her small form again. If I don't do these things, I know she will sleep soundly through the night. I admit to myself this is more for me than for her.
And I tell her things. Between her soft, exhaled breaths, I whisper that I love her more than anything in the wide world. I reassure her that I'm here, that I'll always be here. And I tell her that, somehow, everything is going to be all right.
Or maybe, she tells me.
5 kind comments from you:
I do this too - probably more for me than for my babes. Sneaking into their room in the dark of the night, when they are peacefully sleeping, and seeing their sweet little faces is one of my favorite times of the day.
Ohh, this is beautiful. And I do it all the time with Levi, too. He's 18 months now and more a toddler than baby, but when he sleeps, he's still my little guy. It's been a while since I've stopped in, kicking myself in the head for it!! Miss reading your blog!
Nothing is more reassuring than seeing your baby soundly asleep. She's beautiful!
This post reminds me of one of my sons most favorite books. "Love You Forever" by Robert Munsch. Have you heard of it?
All in all everything will be alright. Sometimes it takes the innocence of a sleeping baby to reassure your self.
this is astounding. There is always such an incredible amount of emotion in your words…bigger stories and feelings that fall in between each letter of your words. I never cease to love reading your stuff.
on another note, it’s amazing what love can do--what it can teach us in even the seemingly smallest moments.
Change is inevitable, dear. The sun will come.
Post a Comment