Seven Months Later...

Last night there was a miracle, a cracking belter of a miracle. I’m hovering over the floorboards in my house this morning after it. Not to exaggerate, but it was better than when Santa’s sleigh took off from Central Park in Miracle on 34^th Street. It was better than when Moses spilt the sea, or when Peter and Wendy tried out flying for the first time. Only mothers will appreciate the full extent of it though. Here goes...

Kian slept uninterrupted in his own room in a cot!  Alone. As in, by himself! This has major implications for my life. It means I can now read in bed with the light on; that I can hit the sack and not have to lie on the crumby bit of space leftover at the edge after dad and baby have positioned themselves for the night. I won’t be woken at 2 and 3 and 4 in the morning by someone too cute to throw out - someone who likes pulling the hair out of my scalp and shoving his fingers up my nose. Someone who likes to scat and chant all sorts of baby talk at unholy hours because he’s cramped, or uncomfortable, or bored or who knows.

 Admittedly, not every parent goes through what I did because most are smart enough to implement a routine from the beginning and stick with it. Baby sleeps in the crib and goes to bed at roughly the same time every night and there’s no more about it. But I’m a first time mom, and a nervous enough one at that. I worry inordinately about the consequences of my actions upon my son’s emotional and mental wiring. I desperately want him to grow up happy and secure, and I want him to feel confident and loved. What I’m now learning is that I don’t have to be with him around the clock to achieve this.

Kian was ready for his own space.  He wanted it. So now we have to scramble around and pick up the bits we didn’t expect we’d actually need anytime soon – like a bumper to block the draught. We resorted to using the crib one as an emergency replacement last night.  We’ll also need to get one of those night lights that make stars on the ceiling. The little ripper really surprised us – who knew he didn’t need me breathing down his neck at night anymore than I needed to curl my toes in pain every time he ripped a rib from me!

He looked so comfortable in his cot all night long. So cosy and cute and grown up. I’m not naive enough to believe that every night will be as last night was, but if it’s anything close to it then I’ve got some still waters ahead. I’ve got some of myself back. I’ve got an independent baby.

 Proud lump in the throat forms. Geeky smile follows, with a “Thank you, God!”