It’s funny what you think about in the middle of the night when your little one is crying in your arms. It’s funny what you cling on to, to get you through that tough hour.

Recently my baby was sick with both a nasty virus and teething. Four evil jerky teeth were taunting him and trying to pushing their little jerky selves through his baby gums. Pffft. Jerks. And if that wasn’t enough, he had a constant temperature making him feel super crappy and unwell. Such a great combo. Not.

And because of this, nights in our household were getting to a particularly horrendous point. Our poor sweet baby was struggling to sleep a full night and as such we were all awake for anywhere up to two hours each night trying to settle the poor little man. Which kind of led to 2 out of 3 humans in the household shedding a tired tear or two. One of those humans may or may not have been me. Wait, what?

And please keep in mind that our baby is not the kind of baby to just cry for no reason. He is very much UN-like his mother in this respect (who hysterically sobs even when random people win prizes on the radio).  When our little man cries, we know that he has been pushed to the very edge of his teeny tiny baby limits.

So we knew that something was wrong, and as such we spent big chunks of each night trying to take away his pain, his discomfort and his sadness, and to bring back our smiley, happy, joy filled little dribbler.

And in the midnight hour, when I was cradling my sad little baby to my chest hoping with every single part of my being that I could somehow magically be enough to help him feel better, I found myself searching.

Searching for that one thing to focus on. Something to take my thoughts away from how utterly exhausted I am. To distract me from the fact that I am failing to help the person that I love with every part of me.

I was searching for the thing that could help me forgive myself for how I feel when I hear that cry again at 3am. That wail that occurs for the fourth time in two hours of trying to put him to sleep again. Because I am so ashamed to say it, but sometimes when I hear that sound, my heart drops. I feel so disappointed that I haven’t helped. That it hadn’t worked, and quite frankly I am disappointed that I can’t go back to sleep either because I am just so damn tired.

Where I dream (with my eyes open) of being at 3am…But can never seem to get back there… Image Courtesy of Pixabay.com

Oh, the guilt of that feeling… Parenthood is so full of guilt!

So I take a deep breath, I rock my baby and continue to search.

For that thing in the midnight hour that can instead bring me happiness and calm, that can take away my tiredness, and overwhelm me with love until my heart bursts from it. That thing that makes me forget anything but the baby I am holding, and his sweet baby face.

I cling to the way he nestles into my arm. His warmth. I cling to the way he tries, even mid cry, to be happy and playful, and tickle my lips…to take up the game that we play during the day…before he realises just how terrible he is feeling and gives up only to cry some more.

I cling to his sweet smell and softness of his skin as I press my lips against his head to bring him comfort. And the vision of his eyes as they tiredly and slowly blink up at me, so trusting and full of love.

These are the things that I cling to.

Because even if I can’t take away his pain, if I can’t take away his sickness and his sadness, I can give him love. I can show him how much I love him. I can hold him and be there for him, and trust that it is giving him comfort.

So that’s what I do. I focus on those little things and I get through it. Each night. Each day.

Until my healthy and happy baby returns to me once more. And most likely farts in my face…

 

 

What do you focus on when your little one is sick? What gets you through those tough nights? Leave a comment below as I would love to hear about it! xxx

 

 

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