I began this post in the middle of the night one night, up with a cranky baby, who eventually fell asleep on my chest, breathing slow and deep in the nursery. I finished it up, and submitted it to a few places, but it was never published on any site but my own.

Life is fleeting.

Children grow quickly. Things happen fast. When you look back, you’re always surprised to see how much has happened.

So when you wake, little one, in the middle of night, I will snuggle you. I’ll be tired; don’t doubt that. It will be hard, at first, to pull my groggy self out of bed. I’ll complain a little. I’ll stumble into your room.  I’ll scoop you up, sniff right behind your ear, and settle into our chair.

It’s the same chair, you know, that I nestled into with your brother and your sister. I’ve spent hours and hours in this chair. The time probably amounts to days or even weeks, actually. But I’m not sad. I’ve loved those moments. Snuggling, nursing, rocking, booty-patting, back-rubbing and snoozing, all done for long, delicious moments with three gorgeous, cuddly, sleeping (or sleepless) babes in this same chair. I knew even then that the moments were numbered. You would not always need me like this. Want me like this.

But times have changed, and in the best way. You are independent. You are doing many things on your own, playing happily alone, communicating with others, asking for what you want, and showing me you aren’t as helpless as you once were. But in the dark of night, waking from your sleep, you cry out. And I hear you. Unsteady and dazed though I may be, I rouse myself from my warm bed, groaning with effort and sleep, and struggle across the hall to your room. When I open the door, there’s just more darkness, but I know exactly where you are. I reach down, and feel your tiny arms reaching for me. You knew I was coming for you, even before I got there.

That’s how we are made, you and I. We know that we’ll find the other, in dark of night, in the depths of our exhaustion. I will find you, love you, snuggle you. No matter how old you get, when you need me, I will come. Regardless of the reason, or direness of need, I will be there when you need me. And for now, when you wake, I will snuggle you.

This post is part of my NaBloPoMo, where I publish a piece every day in November. I brought this one up from the depths of old drafts, and I hope you enjoyed it!