own the night

I must admit, I was taken aback by a few of your comments on my last post. Surely, my husband would either laugh or faint if he heard me described as laid-back or easy-going. I assure you, I am neither of these things by nature. Schedules are my safeguards. Structure is my middle name.

It’s taken me a few years, and I’m still learning it everyday…

but I’ve discovered that babies are different.

Babies don’t reason well. They aren’t conscious of milestones. They don’t have anything to prove. They don’t understand should. So somewhere along the way, I simply stopped using the word. I let go of my schedules and my structure, and I enjoyed my girls.

I stopped reading baby websites and comparing milestones on mommy forums. I tossed the medical advice not backed by evidence & science. I stopped counting the weeks until the next stage – sleeping, solids, or sitting.

I declared war on should.

The sisters are starting to sleep better now, but what if they continued to wake once or twice a night for months to come? Some mornings, I wake in a fog so thick I have to physically shake myself from it. Some mornings, my head pounds so loudly I swear Chris can hear it. And since the girls don’t sit well, I’m not comfortable feeding them solids regularly just yet… which means I’ve got to keep an eye on my milk supply. But even a few years of this seems like such a small price to pay, compared to the decades I get to spend growing old with my kids.

Child-rearing is both a magnificent honor and an epic responsibility. I must remind myself daily to choose patience. To choose joy. It’s an ongoing process, but I’m learning to consider it a blessing to battle the night with my babies.