Twilight

When we found out I was pregnant, we were both so excited. The thought of dressing up a little boy or girl and decorating their room was so exciting to me (Maybe not to Michael, but he is a guy after all!). Then I actually started to think about all of the work involved: changing diapers, feeding at all hours and maybe never going out to eat again. I figured I could deal with most of these, but the second one: feeding at all hours, terrified me. For as long as I can remember, I am one grumpy person if I don't get my sleep. Ask my parents. Or my husband. They know when I am tired simply based on my attitude. I can't help it. I am a person who values my sleep.

Flash forward to the day Patrick was born. Since April 2, 2011 I have not slept through the night once. The first few weeks I didn't think I would be able to function. I started to hope that he would just go back to sleep when I heard him on the monitor, that's how tired I was. I started to resent my husband because he slept peacefully next to me as Patrick 'talked' on the monitor.

As those first few weeks turned into months, my attitude about those night feedings began to change. It was the only time that I was absolutely alone with my little boy. During the day we were constantly seeing visitors who always wanted to hold the baby, or try to give advice, or constantly ask if he was sleeping through the night. Although this visitors all meant well, I started to resent them as well. I felt like I was only there to feed him (I felt like a cow honestly) and everyone else just voiced opinions, or acted like they knew it all and got to hold him and have 'fun' with him.

Even though I had a juggling act to perform during the day and was exhausted by the time bedtime came, I soon realized that during the night I didn't have to worry about a schedule or making sure he would be in a 'good' mood for the next visitor. I didn't have to worry about someone stealing him away as soon as I was finished nursing or giving advice or asking questions. It was just Patrick and I. I could peacefully nurse my son without looking at the clock. I remember sitting in the glider just staring at him and being amazed that this little person grew inside of me.

No matter what time it was, every time I went to pick him up from his crib, he would smile at me. I would scoop him up and carry him to the changing table and then to the glider. He would nurse for around half an hour and I would sit and just stare, stroke his head or rub his back. When he was finished, he would lay back and contently smile in his sleep as I gently laid him back in the crib. Even though I knew he would be up again in probably an hour, I would spend at least five minutes just watching him.

Patrick still gets up around 3 in the morning for a midnight snack, and instead of dreading it, I actually look forward to it. He still gives me that smile when I walk in and is as happy to see me as I am to see him. I still feel like this time allows me to be the mother I want to be, if that makes sense. No one is rushing to steal him away from me, or asking about him sleeping or trying to give advice about maybe giving formula so he sleeps longer. I am simply content to nurse and spend some time with my son.

Am I still exhausted, yes, but I wouldn't change it for the world. Even though he will not remember this time when he is older, I know I will and I will forever be grateful for our quiet time together during those twilight hours before the rest of the world is awake.