A Milestone For Us

Last year at this time Pea struggled so much with sleep and I, as a result, spent much of my time rocking him (standing up because he wouldn't let me sit) in his room and in the dark. I would open up his blinds to look outside while I was rocking him and would sometimes see my neighbor (a mom to two young kids) in her kitchen on her computer or in her living room watching TV. Okay, so after writing that, I know it sounds a little creepy, but it really wasn't anything other than a passing glance.
What I remember most is the feeling I had when I saw this.

It wasn't envy or jealousy.   It wasn't confusion or sadness.  It was more like wonder. 

I wondered when/if there would come a time when I could relax in the evenings instead of hustling to boil water, cool it, make six bottles for the night feedings, try to have something to eat for dinner, then rock Pea in his room when he was in the thick of horrible colic. There was no down time for us, no time to watch television, to decompress, and to wind down in preparation for the night and next day.
Recently it occurred to me that we are no longer those harried, sleep deprived parents of two newborns. After the babies went to sleep tonight at 7:00pm, J. and I went through the fall television schedule and set our PVR to record all the shows we've missed and all the ones we would like to start watching. We've both been sitting here on the couch since 7:15pm. Not one of us has moved and it is now 9:45pm. The next move will be up the stairs to bed. I will check on Chick first and will likely see her atop her blanket with her rump in the air (she will sleep soundly until 7:30am when she'll wake up quietly to play in her crib). I will then check on Pea who will likely have spun 180 degrees in his crib and will be clutching his "Blankie" with a white-knuckled grip (he will wake sometime between 4-5am when I will scoop him up and take him into bed with us where he will sleep soundly until 6:30am).

A far cry from where we were at this time last year.

If a new mom is watching us from her baby's window tonight, I would want her to know that these hard days and nights won't last forever.  I would wish that she wouldn't feel lonely at 3:00am looking out at dark houses and quiet streets.  I would tell her not to doubt her ability to soothe her baby and to stop reading all those "helpful" theories about how to get a child to sleep through the night (if it were so easy, there wouldn't be a million books on the subject).

Mostly, though, I would tell her to breathe in deeply the scent of her little one.  As much as those first few months wore us down, I never took for granted the time spent in that dark room with Pea.  The feeling of his warm, rhythmic breath on my neck and his warm body against mine was not lost amid the fatigue and doubt.

It's another feeling I won't ever forget.  And, between you and me, it totally trumps that feeling of wonder I had.