The Misadventires of little Bean
“Whhhaaaaaa!!!” my daughter Bean. Real name withheld to prevent her utter mortification at the mere mention of her mommy’s writing when she’s 13 through 22. I understand the complexities of her language, whilst the untrained ear hears just a crying baby I know she’s really saying “Mother, if you don’t feed me now- no one and I mean no one is getting any sleep around here anytime soon.” I manage to sit myself up and retrieve her from her crib beside my bed. My eyes catch the clock it’s only 1 am. I’ve been up at this point every hour feeding, changing and doing the other baby related care essentials. I can’t figure out how I’m going keep up with her for much longer. I gently remove her from her crib, put the nursing pillow on and start to feed her. Eyes refusing to keep open much longer and my back is threatening me waiting for the precise moment to give out. A thought popped into my head, one of the wonderful “what ifs”. I wiggle myself and Bean into a side laying position, to the howl of a hungry baby I manage to get her back on me nursing and… I passed the hell out.
I awoke to the wonderful feeling of a panic like I’ve never before felt. Convinced I had hurt my little Bean. Grabbing at the edges of my mind was an all encompassing terror, as I out of sheer horror driven instinct look at her I saw to my shock- her smiling up at me. Looking back I’ve since realized that this has officially set the stage for the rest of our lives together. Mommy freaks, kiddo smiles and laughs. Yeah, we’re a team.
Sigh, and this is also how I discovered co-sleeping. We we are still (quite less dramatically) these days.