So I mentioned the other day that there have been nights where baby has only woken up 1, 2 or 3 times. To be precise, there has only been one time where baby only woke up once, and it came after a marathon day on the beach of eating sand, chasing waves, and playing with his buds. We’d been at the beach a few days by that point and the exhaustion and heat must have soaked in good and strong by then. We bundled him up at 8 pm and laid him down for dreamland, each of us knowing that we had 2.5 hours before baby boy would wake up yelling. Sure enough, we heard our little one hollering at 10:30, and I went in to offer him some more bottle, tell him he was okay and that we were right here, and rub his belly. A few mintues later, he was back in dreamland.
Then, at 3 am, both BF and I shot up in bed at the same time.
“Have you been with baby since 10:30?” I asked.
“No, have you?”
“No,” I answered. “It must be coming any second.”
BF went and peeked in baby’s room. “He’s breathing.”
“Any second now,” I repeated. BF nodded.
We laid back down in bed, arms stiffly at our side, waiting to hear the siren call from our baby boy.
3:07 passed on the clock. 3:17. 3:27.
“You still awake,” I asked BF.
“Wide.” He answered.
3:37, 3:47, 3:57.
“I can’t sleep,” I whispered.
“Me neither; he’s going to wake up any minute.”
“I know!” I agreed.
4:07, 4:17, 4:27.
“When do you think it’s going to happen?” BF asked.
“In the next ten minutes,” I answered.
4:37, 4:47, 4:57
Finally, around 5:07, our exhaustion got the best of us, and we drifted off to sleep, only to be awakened by the happy good morning chirps of a baby who had almost slept plumb through the night at 6:27.
“Go figure,” I groaned, “the night he doesn’t wake up after 11 pm is the night we keep ourselves awake for two hours discussing it.”