Sean had set his iphone up as an alarm clock for me, but when I heard the soft rolling of digital bells as day broke I was confused. I waited a moment before stirring, the sounds of crickets through the window punctuated by the rat-tat-tat siren of a woodpecker. Finley was to the right of me, nursing with one hand woven through her tousled hair and the other on my neck, Briar was behind me, curled in a ball parallel to the foot of the bed with her legs touching mine. Sean was gone.
This musical sleeping station thing happens around here, with one parent being traded for a child and another child being added to the mix. After flanking Fin with pillows and covering Briar’s bare shoulders, I slipped out of bed and I tiptoed down the hallway to find Sean. The guest room bed was empty, as I passed our room I smiled at Briar and Finley’s forms, so tiny and yet, together they seemed so big, so undeniably significant, less babies than people.
I saw him tucked awkwardly, but soundly, in the bottom bunk of the girls’ room. The intensity of yesterday still clinging to me, I drank in the sight of him, hands resting on either side of his pillow, elbows poking out, Briar’s pink fleece covering him and proclaiming him a father-of-all-girls even while he sleeps. Ave was overhead, a dark tangle of curls and plump lips were all I could see until she turned, then her face flashed at me and she gave a kind of contented sigh as she buried it once again.
There is potent healing in the embrace of a sleeping family, in knowing that the primal hum is running beneath the beating of your own heart, sustaining it when you are weak. Yesterday and so many days before had been spent figuratively huddled in a corner with my arms wrapped around myself.
____________________
I was weak and so very scared. Today I am healthy and filled with gratitude. Thanks be to crickets and daybreak, to family and to friends.
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A beautiful post. There's nothing like the peaceful feeling a family can bring.
🙂
just so very happy for you.
That is beautiful.
This is so . . . achingly beautiful. When our kids were younger, you'd never be sure who you'd wake up with, snuggled close, stealing covers. Now, every once in a great while, I'll visit them as well, and just sit and watch them sleep . . .
You're in my thoughts, Amanda.
I hate that most days my kids get up and go to school/daycare without me because I have to go to work. However,I love being able to watch my youngest daughter cuddle up to my husband. After I leave the bed, she slowly inches her way across the bed until she has moved from sleeping next to me to being right near her Dad. I'm glad I don't miss that.
Thanks be for the beauty that is Amanda.
We have that same musical sleeping positions thing going on around here. I actually kind of love it. Most of the time.
Glad you're feeling better today.
Rock on mama this is lovely!
Gorgeous. Best of hope and wishes for you all.
Health and gratitude…. fabulous things.
So sweet and beautifully written.
Sleeping is so recharging.
I missed the context behind your tweets while I was away and unplugged. I'm glad everything turned out in the end. Your family needs you to document these quiet moments of grace and gratitude. You do it so well. xo
Thank the Lord. I don't know how I missed this health worry!
I had a bout of bleeding a few years back, and because my mom had colon cancer (Stage 3) my doc was like, 'Colonoscopy, stat!'
To say I was frightened was an understatement.
I'm soooooooooooooo glad all is well with you. Sometimes our bodies are confounding, even when we treat them right.
And now you, me, Flutter and Magpie can discuss the prep. Awful, no?
I know.
Exactly, I know.
Hoping all is still well.
Back to designer Bunk Beds ; I love to highlight these few designs that I saw, just look at spacify.com
I see a lot of interesting articles here. Bookmarked for future referrence.
I will be attending an interview with a current transformer manufacturers this Monday. I hope for the best.