It stormed here last night. The rain fell, and my baby cried. I paced the floor between her bed and mine. The well-worn path needed nothing to illuminate the way. My heart led. That’s the way of things when your child is sick.
I wanted you to know there’ll be nights like this. There will be strings of nights like this. Each time you lay your body down, you’ll wonder, “Will I wake when she calls?” You’ll wake. Don’t worry. It’s the way God made us.
Your body will drag, your eyes will droop and your spirits will trail behind you like stuck-on toilet paper. But you will survive. I promise. You will.
When your baby cries at each of the even hours and 5 a.m. finds you wondering why you even bothered trying to sleep, it’s okay if you weep. It doesn’t make you less of a mother. It makes you more of a human.
The morning will come, and with it, perhaps more medicine, more wet cloths and more tears. But in that moment when the orange glow of sunrise pushes its way in the room, telling you you’ve made it through the long night, it brings hope.
While your precious child lays her damp head on your chest, you’ll glance down and notice her lashes splayed across her cheeks and listen to her long steady breaths.
It’s going to be okay. Sweet mother, there’ll be nights like this. But during the long dark hours that hover and threaten to suffocate, know this.
The darkest of nights is always followed by morning.
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. Psalms 30:5 KJV
A Tired Mother who made it to morning