It’s dark and quiet. I hear him start to stir. I peek at him with one eye open. I shut my eyes. Maybe he’s just adjusting and will stay asleep. I know very well that this isn’t the case, but hey, a mama can dream! I always think illogically at 2am. 10 years ago I also used to think illogically at 2am, too. However, now, for a much different reason- sleep deprivation.
If you’ve ever been a parent of a newborn- you are familiar with my recent style of parties at two am. But this night was different. Special. Magical.
I am sleeping on the couch at my parent’s house. Ollie is in a co-sleeper on the floor beside me. My toddler and husband are upstairs in a bedroom- no point in having all of us in the same room. We don’t need two babes up at 2am… Until I actually hear him begin to fuss, I close my eyes for a little longer. Then I hear footsteps and another fussy baby. It’s my twin sister with her newborn trudging down the steps. She makes her way to the microwave to heat up a mug of water to warm Henry’s bottle. Brookie is exclusively pumping. Not by choice. She had intentions to breastfeed, but things didn’t quite go her way. She has no idea how insanely proud I am of her and her selflessness to continue to pump. (I have tears in my eyes just writing this).
We both settle in as our babes begin to feed. We speak softly- about life, our superstar husbands, our many blessings, as well as the many challenges.
Another door opens. A cheery, yet sleepy-eyed, man pops his head out. It’s my grandpa, who’s been sleeping in the room next to us. “Do I hear some babies out here? Yeah!” he cheers. “Sorry we woke you, Grandpa,” I reply back. “Oh, it’s alright honey,” he smiles back and finds himself a seat in the living room. He’s tickled. Overjoyed. A giddy old man at 2 in the morning. We continue to chat about all the many blessings our family has received during the season of COVID.
Henry’s burp cloth slides off the chair. As Brooke leans to look for it, my grandpa quickly interjects, “Need me to get something for ya, honey?” I smile. You don’t know my grandpa. He is a loving, joyous, and generous man. However, typically he acts a little helpless. Any more coffee over there? Do you have any ice? Do you have a fork? (The coffee pot has been in the same place for 20+ years, along with the location of the freezer and the silverware drawer.) Don’t get me wrong- I love to serve my grandparents! He just typically doesn’t offer the helping hand to others for tasks like these or do simple things like this for himself. For this reason, the simple act of offering to get the burp cloth for Brooke touches my heart.
Soon after, more footsteps. This time, someone coming up the steps from downstairs, my mom. Whenever my grandparents are in town, my parents sleep in the basement and let my grandparents sleep in their room so that they don’t have any stairs to climb. “Is there a party going on up here?” My mom is just as tickled as my grandpa. Brooke and I both apologize if we are the culprits of their disturbed slumber. Of course, my mom and grandpa could both care less. They are happy to be a part of the 2 am party.
Gramps eventually makes his way back to bed. Brooke, my mom, and I are still visiting. Henry is done eating so my mom is holding him while Brookie pumps. (Like I said- wonder woman). Ollie is still nursing and sleeping. Just cuddled up and cozy.
I hear another door. This one is expected. We’ve been waiting for her. My older sister, Bailey, who also had a baby. Maeve is only a month old. Bailey makes her way down the steps from her room to join our now 3am party. I really could go back to bed now. Ollie is done eating, but the party’s just warming up. We are all here. My mom with her three grown daughters and their newborns babies. Its the best 2am party I’ve ever had.