In the beginning, the very beginning, we had two weeks of happy, sleepy, perfect baby. She slept all the time. We would lay her down and watch movies together and marvel at how angelic a sleeping infant looked. Then on the day she turned two weeks old, Molly bird decided that she didn't want to sleep anymore and was then awake for the next year of her life.
Baby birdy did sleep on occasion, but that was only if I let her sleep on my chest. Little by little she began to sleep for a few minutes in her crib and after a lot of work, and a lot of tears, she would sleep part of the night in the crib. By then, I was attached to her sleeping with us and had a really really hard time putting her in the crib. I guess that's just part of being a mother, having that desire to keep her close the more she would grow, the more she would change.
Even now, I'll wake up late at night and want her little body close to mine. I've even risked waking her up to take a peak at her to make sure she's okay. And I know I shouldn't, but sometimes after Marshal has left for work and if Molly has woken up early, I'll lay her in bed next to me instead of laying her back in the crib. She'll give me hugs and snuggle next to me as I watch her sleepy eyes slowly close when she slips off back to sleep. There aren't words to explain how I cherish these moments. How the early rays of the morning sun make her cheeks that much sweeter. How the crisp new air makes her little body that much snugglier. How I want to tell my husband over and over again thank-you. Thank-you for this time with her. Thank-you for giving her to me.
After I found out we were expecting again, I of course cried. If I said I cried because I was just so freakin' happy, that would be a lie. I cried because of the coward in me. Because I knew we would have to go through ALL of this again. The days when the only sleep I get is for forty minutes. The days when the baby is soundly sleeping in it's crib after months of work, and I still only get forty minutes of sleep because I'm up all night worrying about things like SIDS. The nights when my heart wants the baby's heart next time mine, because for nine months they were inseparable.
It will be hard. I know I will struggle. And in moments when I feel like I can't handle the lack of strength, the stress and the heartache, I will think about these amazing, wonderful mornings. I will draw from the beauty God has given me. I will refill my empty cup with thoughts of peaceful mornings once again....
Mornings where everything is okay...and this time, there will two. Two little bodies snuggled next to mine. Double the cheeks to kiss. Double the love.