So, here I am again... rocking a semi-sleeping baby at 3am. I never thought I'd been sitting in the all too familiar propped up position in my bed trying to get a baby to sleep at 3 am again.
But here I am.
And I find myself loving 3 am. "HOW can that be?" you ask?
At 3 am, my daughter lets down her guard just ever so slightly. She rests her head on my chest. She breathes deeply and silently. And she sleeps.
In just a few short hours, she will become aware that she isn't all that comfortable yet in this place called home. She will refuse to put her oh-so-tired head on my shoulder. She will arch her back and cry with big huge tears that would flood the Yellow River "PLEASE LET ME BE, I'm overwhelmed, overstimulated and JUST PLAIN TIRED and I am really not used to all this cuddling!"
But, oh 3 am.
She forgets that she is in a new and strange place.
And I hold her. And I whisper words in her ear. In her semiconscious state she hears my voice. She smells my Mommy scents. She reaches up and touches my face and plays with my hair.
I pray that these 3 am snuggles will help her to realize deep down in her wounded heart that my heart is hers.