Something wakes me from my deep sleep at 1:30 in the morning. I lay and listen. He's awake. I give him a second to calm down, but I hear it is escalating. I go to get my restless boy. These cries out in the night are rare now, and I worry.
As he sees me in the dark his cries slow. He reaches for me and I reach back. He is out of his crib and his head is on my shoulder. Arms around my neck. He is nearly asleep again already. My worries die. He just needed his Mama tonight.
We lay in our bed. The family bed. He curls up close. Kicking off covers and relaxing into what will soon be a deep sleep.
Three hours later, it's only 4:30. He is awake again. His little head pops up and he looks at me. Awake. But not really awake. He crawls on top of me and lays his head on my chest. He sighs. He is content. He drifts back to sleep with his head on my heart. My heart on my heart.
I lay there still awake and he is restless again. Up and moving from my chest to my arm. From my arm to the bed. Back to my chest. We go round and round for two hours. I watch as he drifts in and out of a restless sleep. I wonder about teeth. I wonder about a bug. I worry again. He tries to rest. I watch him. Every now and again he looks up at me, and even though he is tired, his face spreads into a huge smile. I am tired, but I am also content here watching my sweet boy. My heart holds my heart.
Finally at 6:30 he seems asleep. I silently crawl from the bed, hoping he and his Papa can rest for a couple of hours. As I walk out the door for work at 7:20 I hear him laugh from the bedroom. I smile and walk out the door, both loving and hating our long restless nights.