Vigil

11:59 pm

Liam wakes up screaming. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Some nights he startles awake, howls for a moment, then settles back into his dreams without ever really leaving them. But not this night. He is definitely awake, and insistent. I go in and rock him, and he settles into my shoulder. He starts to feel like a sack of rice, and I make a move to put him in the crib - Noooo! Okay, a little more, pretty soon Mama will sleep in her bed and you will sleep in your crib. (He likes this idea, piddy soo, pretty soon.)

Then it is time, and I am firm, and Liam is pissed. He hollers and sobs for 10 more minutes before I go back in and coax him to lie down. I do this by sitting on the floor next to his crib and putting one finger through the bars and singing Mister Moon about 15 times. "Go back to bed and cover up your head," the song goes. Then Liam sits back up and does a fantastic two-nostril Farmer Blow.

As I sit there, exhausted and covered with snot, I have to remind myself what a privilege it is to be Liam's mother. I think of a couple at church, and some family members who grieve for lost sons and daughters; and another couple who have been trying to conceive for such a long time, and I wonder at the unfairness of it all.

1:10 am

I can't sleep, so I pray. Lately, a prayer for my friends has been constantly on my lips: bring them a baby. The moon is full and bright tonight. When this moon wanes, that's it, they are moving on. That's what they have decided. But this time...surely...

6:30 am

Psalm 6:2-3, 5-7 (Message paraphrase)

Can't you see I'm black and blue,
beat up badly in bones and sole?
God, how long will it take
for you to let up?

...I'm tired of all this - so tired. My bed
has been floating forty days and nights
On the flood of my tears.
My mattress is soaked, soggy with tears.
The sockets of my eyes are black holes;
nearly blind, I squint and grope.