Is it exhaustion or the baby that has made me more sentimental?
We wake up to crying. Will her to go back down. It doesn’t work. They say it’s hardest at dawn, circadian rhythms resetting to light exposure or something like that, but there is no light, not yet. Besides, we use a blackout blind. She cycles through our names – mama, dada, Albertine – cries in between. We’re supposed to give it to 6am but never do. I get up, leave off the lights, pause the white noise of “mountain river”, pick her up, return to bed.
She feeds. We close our eyes. We feel one another move and turn and squirm but do not go back to sleep. She kicks at my stomach, I move to the edge of the bed. It grows light. Or lighter. There is increasing greyness. When she’s had enough her mum helps her out of the sleepsuit and she slips off the side of the bed, pads into her room, brings us things one by one – books, animals, shoes, clothes – takes them back again.
Continue reading...from The Guardian http://bit.ly/2TIFvZg
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