Wait

It’s 3am. The house is still, quiet, sleeping. The clock in the hallway downstairs ticks softly: one two, one two, one… two. Outside, a cat mewls softly and a bottle falls onto hard ground, tinkling faintly in the distance. Between us is a door. Solid, yet thin enough to hear his breathing. Rasping and uneven. Faltering. Fragile. Underneath me the carpet starts to sag and I shift my legs slightly, trying to conserve warmth but failing miserably. It’s hours until the heating will kick in and anyway, nobody else is up so why heat the house?

And I wait.

Wait_ Ghostwritermummy.co.ukHe’ll wake soon. And it will all begin again. And I’ll sob quietly into the darkness because I know that this night will be exactly like every other night. Except that this night might be the night that breaks me. Finally I will fall, shattered. A million tiny pieces of useless motherhood splintering onto the ground. Swept away with the rubbish. Gone. Forgotten? Probably. Hopefully.

It isn’t this night that breaks me. But it is the night I decide that life cannot go on this way. There is something wrong with me. There is a loose connection in our relationship. There is a faulty wire that needs to be looked at, repaired quickly before it’s too late. I am losing my grip on normality, and fast. I am sitting, I realise, outside my sons bedroom door at 3 am, waiting.

Waiting for him to wake. Waiting for him to need me. Always waiting.

And the nagging doubt that he is not supposed to even be here clings to my bones, keeps me where I am. Everything that happened dictates that he should not be here. The silence in that room tells me he should not be here. The panic, the fear, the urgency of it all. He should not be here. So I have to stay. I have to make sure he is here.

And I am here too. Waiting.

He wakes, as I knew he would. And we start again. An awkward dance in the dead of night; a fearsome union of two left feet and painful turns. I don’t even know if we’ll be OK, my son and me. But I take him into my arms anyway and I hold him close to breathe in his smell. His hair tickles the top of my lip and the wait is over. And though the weight of him is solid and reassuring, my heart is pounding because suddenly, again, I’m not sure that I can even do this anymore. Its almost as if my arms have become useless lumps of meat swinging at my sides, holding him but letting him go at the same time. It’s almost as if he knows I’m useless and incapable as the cries begin to build in his little body. It’s almost as if we are just beginning, night after night.

Nothing to do, but to wait.

14 Comments

  1. June 9, 2016 / 12:03 pm

    I can really relate to this post and i think you wrote it beautifully. The things that kept me going through those hard sleepless nights is knowing that it was only temporary and my baby wouldnt stay a baby forever so i had to cherish every bump of the journey

    • ghostwritermummy
      Author
      June 20, 2016 / 2:50 pm

      Thank you. I know its only temporary too, time really does fly xx

  2. June 9, 2016 / 12:35 pm

    This actually brings tears to me eyes because it’s something i can completely relate to. Motherhood can be so hard at times, especially when you add sleepless nights into the mix. It will soon pass, so stay strong though mama because you are doing an amazing job! xx
    Vikki Holness recently posted..A Day Out At Folly FarmMy Profile

    • ghostwritermummy
      Author
      June 20, 2016 / 2:50 pm

      Thank you x x

    • ghostwritermummy
      Author
      June 20, 2016 / 2:49 pm

      You’re right. Time flies, even when the days are long xx

  3. June 9, 2016 / 10:24 pm

    This is written so well and I can totally relate. Stay strong you are doing amazing!

    • ghostwritermummy
      Author
      June 20, 2016 / 2:49 pm

      Ah thank you x x

  4. June 10, 2016 / 9:40 am

    Beautifully written. I don’t even know where to start but just know that the fact that you are waiting for your son to wait, you want to know he is ok, that speaks a thousand words. You are his mummy and all he needs. You got this.

    • ghostwritermummy
      Author
      June 20, 2016 / 2:49 pm

      Thank you xx

  5. June 10, 2016 / 9:49 am

    Really well written post. It’s a tough situation, I know. You must be exhausted, but the tough times do pass xx
    Zoe Alicia recently posted..Embracing GratitudeMy Profile

    • ghostwritermummy
      Author
      June 20, 2016 / 2:48 pm

      Thanks lovely. I know this won’t last forever but I think lack of sleep really does drain the life force out of me! xx

  6. June 10, 2016 / 12:06 pm

    Wow, you’ve written this like a novel! But I’m guessing this is really how you are feeling, and it scares me, as this will probably be me this time next month. Just got to remember it’s not forever xx

    • ghostwritermummy
      Author
      June 20, 2016 / 2:47 pm

      It really isn’t forever, and although time does fly there is still time to enjoy it too xx

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