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Why I’m STILL happy my baby doesn’t sleep through the night – part two

See the original Why I’m Happy my Baby Doesn’t Sleep Through the Night here.

sequel

It’s the dead of winter and the dead of night.

It’s cold, freezing in fact. About -1 degrees.

I hear the cry of my baby.

I reach over and check the time, 3:35am. I lay my head back on my pillow and wait for a second cry.

There it is… and a third.

I stumble out of bed being careful not to tread on my books and laptop I’ve left strewn across the floor.

I walk into bubby’s room.

He’s standing in his cot. Both hands resting on the rail. His bottom lip is dropped. He looks so sad but wriggles his happy dance as he sees me enter.

There you are,” I say to him with a half sleeping smile. “Are you hungry?

I pick him up from his cot and give him a cuddle. He’s warm. The heater at least keeps his room warm.

We take a seat on the sofa and he snuggles into my chest. He is tired and he is hungry.

He leans back in my arms and looks at me through his hazy eyes. His little chubby-bubby fingers touch my lips and I give them big noisy kisses. I know I won’t have long with him tonight. Now he is older, he feeds much quicker.

He begins to feed. He looks up at me with his big blue eyes. He wriggles around in my arms and touches my face with his hands. He explores my cheek, my chin, my lips…. more kisses from mummy.

Despite our bodies warming each other, I reach for a blanket and cover us both. He kicks his legs… oops I forgot he doesn’t like his legs to be wrapped too tightly.

In less than no time, he pushes me away with his hands. I offer him some more but he pushes me away again. He’s finished.

I know it’s time to get up, but I sit with him in my arms for a moment. Just looking at him. He’s blue eyes, his white hair, his red cheeks, his milky chin. I think to myself how lucky I am to have such a precious moment with him. I stroke his hair. He blinks long heavy sleepy blinks..

Alright” I say. “Bed time?”

I get up and lay him on the change table. I coordinate flinging legs and arms to change a wet nappy. I pick him up and cuddle him once more. I cradle him in my arms with his blanket wrapped around him. I pace the room for a couple of minutes singing to him, “It’s alright my little man… It’s alright my little man“. Just some silly song I made up many months ago but he likes it. More heavy blinks. He slowly… closes…….. his……………… eyes.

I lay him in his cot and pull the woolen blanket over him. His eyes are closed but he reaches for his dummy. One in each hand, one in his mouth. Gosh he’s beautiful.

I love you and it’s time to go to sleep.” My usual spiel before I leave his room. One last tuck of the blanket, one last look at him and I leave.

I enter my own room. My own freezing room.

I assess the damage. My husband, as usual, has flung the doona off and twisted the sheets in the short time I was away. I jump into bed and pull all the doona on top of me. He stays asleep. No more comments from him at this hour anymore. That’s okay, he has to work in the morning.

I reach over and look at the clock, quarter to four.

I lay my head onto my pillow and snuggle into the warm doona.

Another night feed in the dead of the night. Another quite moment with my baby.

How lucky I am.

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About Lauren Jackman (159 Articles)
Lauren Jackman is the author of Canberra Mummy. A self-confessed perfectionist, Lauren writes about the truth about pregnancy and parenting for perfectionist mummies. Lauren is a mum, wife, author, runner and a not a bad cook