Its 2:30 a.m. Molly (my 5 month old) is waking for the third time tonight already. She’s not sick. She is not in a growth spurt. Her diaper is clean and she’s not too hot or cold. I don’t know what she needs. I do know that after five days of this and VERY little sleep, I can’t see straight. The house is a mess. We have used all of our allotted “eat out” days for the month and we are only half way through. I go about my days like a zombie. I feel like I am not even carrying on a functioning conversation. I’m not sure how much more I can take of this. The house is so quiet, I feel alone.
So for now, I deliriously look at her tiny little fingers, wrapped around mine. I gently sooth her cries. I rub her soft hair as she nurses. I kiss her cheek as I place her back in her bed. And then I sleep for a few more minutes. And no matter when she needs me again, I will be here, for her and her tiny little fingers.