The room is dark and quiet.
It’s a time I’ve longed for all day.
I am curled up in the cool cottony sheets, finally resting after a long, stressful, and tiresome day.
I feel a quick jab in my side followed by a kick in my leg.
I look over, bleary eyed, and see him tossing and turning in his sleep.
He flails to one side, pushing me closer to the edge.
He yanks the covers closer to his chest, pulling them off of me at the same time.
My hopes of a quiet peacful night are shattered.
I know that the next few hours will bring me tug of wars with the sheets and boxing matches with toddler arms.
I sigh, releasing a heavy breath, enveloped with the thoughts of a restful night, comfortable in my bed.
I reach over and wrap my arms around him.
He settles in close and rests his head on my shoulder, where it’s fit perfectly since birth.
My heart swells knowing that he’s here, wrapped in me safely.
I lay there watching him.
His eyes flutter in and out of dreams.
His breaths slow as he calms from the tossing and turning.
His tiny fingers reach under the pillow and find mine, wrapping ever so gently around them.
In my heart I know that these moments are fleeting.
I know that before I blink he will not want to lay here with me or cuddle in close or hold my hand.
So for now, I let him stay with me.
I let him snuggle in close and yank the covers from me.
I gladly give up the quiet night of sleep if it means I can cuddle one more time with my baby.