midnight reflections & crying babies

I stand in hallway listening to the teething baby cry.   Everything in my power to comfort has been done, but I am not willing to stay up all night and entertain her to distract her from her discomfort.  Into bed she went- for the 4th time?  or was it the 5th?  Leaning wearily against the wall, I wrestled with the situation.

Under consideration:

(1) My husband's alarm is set to go off in 4.5 hours.  Since that alarm will mark the beginning of his sixth 10-hour work day this week, he obviously needs his sleep.

(2) Teething makes babies cranky.  Erupting molars are NOT our friends. Miss Evie is not normally prone to tantrums, but this week has been spent perfecting the art.

(3) Crying babies make it difficult for anyone and everyone to sleep.

(4) Baby needs to JUST GO TO SLEEP.  Heaven help me, I want to have a snooze button installed in her navel. At the same time, I want to sit all night with her fuzzy head nestled under my chin.

(5) This isn't my first go around with this issue, why don't I have "the answer" yet? An answer of complete confidence as an experienced mother. For some unknown reason, my accumulated mama wisdom doesn't include a decisive, perfect answer for tonight.

While I stand listening to her half-hearted cries grow fainter and further apart, I still can't decide if I want to snatch her from her bed for a snuggle or creep quietly by her room towards my bed.  It is all too clear to me that babies grow up and eventually neither need or want to snuggle their mamas in the night. The seven other children lying in their beds no longer call for me in the night. While I prize the sleep, and tonight I desperately need it, my heart is achingly aware that she is my last wee one.

Silence reigns at long last.  How long?  Minutes not hours, although every minute feels like an hour when you are listening to a tired baby fight sleep.

I crept down the hallway, oh-so-carefully so as not to make the boards squeak, and eased my door open, making for bed.  It's after midnight and, weekend or not, she'll be awake long before I want to be.