My baby boy was sick this weekend. What started as a cough became a very snotty nose became an extremely sleepless, crying, feverish night. Doctor said, 'Ear Infection'. Our first. Four days later he's nearly back to his old self, even asking (sort of) for his nose to be wiped. It only took about a thousand wipes followed by a shriek for him to realize it actually makes him feel better.
That very long sick-baby night was rough. I'm used to interrupted sleep as Saf still nurses a few times throughout the night - although since we bedshare (a single bed pushed up against a queen) it's not too difficult. But he was sobbing - and too snot-nosed to feed. Baby was not wanting the mama. But as soon as daddy took him in his arms and bounced and rocked him on the edge of the bed, he calmed. He fell asleep. It was quiet. We tried to lay him back down in bed, but he'd wake after a few minutes screaming, only consoled by his daddy's arms. Chris rocked Saf for hours, and I (feeling very unnecessary and happy about it) went and slept in the other room until morning.
My husband deeply impressed me with his willingness to take the grueling sick-baby night shift, with peace. He didn't grumble about being tired, even though he was working the next day. He just held the baby. I think he was secretly pleased that Saf was taking refuge in him.
When Saf was just new in the world there were weeks of nights where I was up in the darkest hours, nursing him for ages, changing his nappy, wrapping him tight and trying to rest him back in the bassinet next to our bed. There wasn't much Chris could do at that point and I was okay with that, knowing my precious baby would soon enough need his daddy sometimes more than he needed me.
And that time has come. Or at least a moment of that future reality broke into the present this weekend. And it was nice. I enjoyed the sleep. But now Saf's nearly better and we're back to mama and baby, keeping each other warm and calm in the night.
And daddy sleeps with ear plugs on the other side of the bed. Mhm.
That very long sick-baby night was rough. I'm used to interrupted sleep as Saf still nurses a few times throughout the night - although since we bedshare (a single bed pushed up against a queen) it's not too difficult. But he was sobbing - and too snot-nosed to feed. Baby was not wanting the mama. But as soon as daddy took him in his arms and bounced and rocked him on the edge of the bed, he calmed. He fell asleep. It was quiet. We tried to lay him back down in bed, but he'd wake after a few minutes screaming, only consoled by his daddy's arms. Chris rocked Saf for hours, and I (feeling very unnecessary and happy about it) went and slept in the other room until morning.
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| i love my baby daddy. |
When Saf was just new in the world there were weeks of nights where I was up in the darkest hours, nursing him for ages, changing his nappy, wrapping him tight and trying to rest him back in the bassinet next to our bed. There wasn't much Chris could do at that point and I was okay with that, knowing my precious baby would soon enough need his daddy sometimes more than he needed me.
And that time has come. Or at least a moment of that future reality broke into the present this weekend. And it was nice. I enjoyed the sleep. But now Saf's nearly better and we're back to mama and baby, keeping each other warm and calm in the night.
And daddy sleeps with ear plugs on the other side of the bed. Mhm.
:) Great insights! Love your blog. Am following you now. So glad he's feeling better. You are blessed with such a great husband.
ReplyDeleteVery sweet. This conjured up fond memories. I wish I had written them down like you have. Altho, I don't think I could have expressed it so well. I love reading your stuff, keep sharing! Blessings to you...love, Christie
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