I know, I should be sleeping. Sleep when the baby sleeps. Yeah yeah. I’ve got thoughts running through my head that must be sorted through. So here I go.
A couple of nights ago, I was done. I mean, not really but it felt like it. It felt like confusion frustration and helplessness had gotten the best of me. It was some time of morning, let’s say 2-ish, and my girl was fussing. I wrongly assumed it wasn’t hunger and soothed her back to sleep. She stayed there for however long it takes to believe she’s settled and get myself comfortably snuggled. Yup. And then she shrieked again. Zero to sixty. I wanted to shriek, too. And I wanted patterns, predictable patterns. And I was desperate and sad because I was nowhere near in control.
I felt bad the next morning. Where was my patience and deep attentiveness toward my girl? Where had she’s perfect run off to?
Somewhere between then and now God and I talked. It couldn’t have been for very long because very long has also run off. But it was enough time for him to hit a reset button in my head.
Love her. Kiss her cheek each time you hold her. Even at 2-I’m-dead-tired-AM. Let your heart smile. (Yup, even that cheesy stuff.) She’s your girl.
What a way to enter into Sabbath rest!
She’s been sleeping for about three hours now. Whether or not she makes it all through the night, she’s my girl and I’m her mumma. Thank you, Jesus.