Thursday, June 12, 2008

What Happens In The Night

Lonely wails and possibly hungry screams tore me from my melatonin induced, heavy slumber.

I laid there, still, waiting for the storm to pass.

The door was shut, the fan switched to the on position and pillows piled on my ears.

An hour later, I stumbled down the hall to the kitchen to prepare his bottle. The second I touched the tube of Anbesol to relieve his swollen gums the howling ceased.

Bottle in fridge, Anbesol back on the counter, I stumbled around the dog and climbed into bed. The previously tossed back covers were re-wrangled back over my tired body. I nestled down into the wall of pillows necessary to sleep.

Releasing one deep breath, the wail permeates the house yet again.

Bottle in hand, I creep into his room. He lays there, mouth wide open, giant tears flowing down chubby, cherubic cheeks. I reach into the crib and scoop up his highness.

He grabs, desperately for the bottle he verges on too old for. He drinks like it's his job. His damp head falls onto my shoulder.

We climb back into my too often vacated bed and curl up together. He reaches the end of the bottle and starts to wail again. Desperate for sleep, I stumble back across the hall and place him in his bed.

He'll cry it out and be fine. Clean diaper, full tummy. He wants for nothing.

I close the door on his soul-piercing howl.

Back into the the would-be bliss of my bed. I lay still for yet another moment. The cries continue.

Suddenly, visions of his dear, sweet brother float into my head. His birthday is rapidly approaching. The ache tears at me to hold that brother that is no longer with us.

As the lump forms in my throat and the tears fall from my eyes I have just one thought. Fuck sleeping through the night in his own bed.

I have a sweet, little boy in the here and now and all he wants is for his mother to hold him.

As I woke this morning, exhausted, I looked over at his sweet round face, his naked baby shoulders, chubby tummy pushing the top of his diaper out. Snuggled up in the very blanket that we took his brother to the funeral home in it, it all comes rushing at me.

There is no sense in clinging desperately to the what should have been. I have what I'm supposed to have. That's the deal and I cannot be so selfish as to want to change that.

My two-children have the full love of a mama of three. Those lucky little beasts.

7 comments:

Maggie, Dammit said...

Wow.

This is just so very, very good.

The last line is so profound, and so true.

Lucky indeed.

rubyredruca said...

You're one strong mama. Hang in there.

Robyn said...

Teething is the WORST -- but you're the best for seeing the bigger picture.

Jan-o-riffic said...

I let my little men sleep with me whenever I can. I don't want to miss a second.

"I gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience
in which I must stop and look fear in the face...
I say to myself, I've lived through this
and can take the next thing that comes along...
We must do the things that we think we cannot do."
~Eleanor Roosevelt

You are amazing.

Dirty Pirate Hooker said...

Now my mascara is rollin down my face!

Chickie said...

Love to you.

Rebecka said...

Aww. How sweet.

and melatonin is some good shit. let me tell ya.
:)