My Son, You Are Sleeping

It’s 10:45 now and you are sputtering like a motor boat.  I’ve put you down to sleep instead of carrying you around because it didn’t seem like you wanted to be held.  You got quiet, found your thumb and rested for about 5 minute before becoming more restless and now I am close to picking you up again.  I am discovering the transition between holding and walking you to sleep and letting you find it on your own.  I have not found it yet nor have you.

Mom has gotten up now as your cries become louder, she wants to rub your back, she is rubbing but it is not helping…you are getting more upset.

Then I picked you up and you settled into me.  We could tell you were tired by your cry, like wanting to give up – it was a surrendering cry, not a hungry or agitated cry – those cry’s crescendo and build – the tired cry loses steam quickly and although it can be loud it doesn’t maintain strength.

I walked you and held you close to me but not too close because you like to have your space, you like to dictate when it is you will act, you don’t like to be forced, and who does.  I try to be conscious of this.  I held you close and spoke to you about being the one (with mommy) that can help you transition, that can help you to relax.  I told you it was safe for you, safe to sleep, that I had you and it was ok, all the time walking slowly and gently bouncing my body to give you some rhythm.  It didn’t take long – your eyes stayed wide for a bit, but within 5 minutes you had given up, we had both won, sleep had come, you had released yourself from the excitement of the day and allowed your little body to breath and rest and regain it’s strength.  What a wonder you are to me my son, I have never seen or experienced anything so beautiful in all my life, there is nothing close, nothing that speaks to me like you, nothing that allows me to see more deeply into my soul and my being than you.  I am in awe of you and I am your caretaker.  My son, my son – you are sleeping.