In The Middle of the Night

Monito just woke me. He sleeps in a co-sleeper attached to my side of the bed. He stirred and whimpered and I reached out to cup the side of his face in my hand to let him know I am close. This quieted him down for a minute, but he was clearly uncomfortable and dreaming. I put his pacifier in his mouth, and he gratefully sucked it in. I let him grip my finger in his hot little fist, and patted his belly with my hand to distract him from whatever body sensation had him whimpering. We both dozed off like this. Each time he chirped, I'd start up the patting again and he'd settle down for a while.

In the middle of the night, by the faint glow of the nightlight at the foot of the bed, it feels like he and I are in a cozy, dozey little bubble. The rest of the room fades, Pequita and Homestead Mama are so quiet that it seems that I am alone with our son. It is a safe microcosm in which I can give him what he needs to be happy and alive, comforting him with my presence and my touch, nursing him, rocking him in my arms until he is still. I am very aware that this is the only time in his life that this will be true. He and I fall asleep, and I am awakened again, but this time by Pequita coughing herself into a state of partial wakefulness. She staggers to a kneeling position, drunk with fatigue. She cries out and I pull her out of her crib. Homestead Mama usually tends to her at night, but she is so overtired from the night before that she hasn't woken up yet. Pequita, upon recognizing me as I get her settled on my body, smiles a wide close-mouthed grin and comfortably closes her eyes as she reaches out both hands to guide the proffered breast into her mouth. I stand next to her crib with her body perpendicular to mine, holding her hips and legs in one arm and supporting her shoulders with the other while I nurse her. In this position I can sway and rock her while she nurses herself back to sleep. I am glad she woke up, as I usually have to wake up and pump at some point in the night because I make too much milk for Monito. I make the perfect amount for both babies, I think. If Homestead Mama decides to stop nursing as much as she currently does, I think I can easily pick up the slack. It is much nicer to nurse a smiling warm baby at 1 am than to sit in a stupor pumping a couple of bottles of milk to freeze for the future. I can't skip the nightime pump, though, or I wake up in the morning with wet sheets, having leaked milk all over the bed.

Once Pequita is good and truly back to sleep, I put her back in her crib where she immediately curls up into my own favorite position to sleep in as a toddler, with my cheek against the mattress and my butt in the air, legs curled up underneath me. I realize I am quite awake and decide to blog a bit. Homestead Mama and I haven't been making the time to keep a good journal of the babies development. If I don't blog it, it doesn't get written down. I'm working to change that, as there is much more than I write here, but for now, my joy and satisfaction at this stage in my life, and my utter love and adoration for my nightime babies, is here for you all to read about. I wish I could capture the feeling better than I have, but words are so clumsy when trying to describe the feeling of my heart welling up.