A Long Nine Hours

Since Mads was about three months old, Mum has been bugging me about having her grand-baby sleep over. It almost happened once, it was my birthday, and Jeffrey and I had plans to celebrate. I chickened out at the last minute, begging Mum to come and stay at our house instead of Madelynn staying at theirs. Last night, I finally let it happen.

It's not that I don't trust Mum to take care of my baby, I have complete confidence in her parenting abilities, and I know she loves babe almost as much as Jeffrey and I do. I wasn't worried about Mady's welfare, I was just worried about Mady. I didn't want to drop her off in a strange place, leave her to sleep in unfamiliar rooms without her Mommy and Daddy there beside her. I guess I was worried that she would cry all night (or worse, not cry at all), and I just wasn't ready to put her (or myself) through that.

I dropped her off last night and cried on my way out. I called Mum as soon as I got home, and then told her to update me as much as possible, I wanted to know about every scream and squirm. Mum held up her end, calling me when Mads went to sleep, calling again when she woke up. My baby was fine.

Jeffrey and I went to the Rathskeller, and I kept running outside to check my phone, terrified that I would miss a call from Mum. I had planned to pick up baby at around nine in the morning, but even with my stomach full of liquid courage, I couldn't sleep. By 6am, I was already wide awake and dressed, pacing around the apartment trying to waste time. I held out until 7:30, and had my baby in my arms by eight.

I did have fun, it was nice to go out with Jeffrey, we don't get a lot of baby-free time together. I think the worst part was coming home to an empty apartment, the floor scattered with toys and no baby to play with them. There's nothing like nine hours apart to remind you how much you love your little one.

Unfortunately for Mum, I won't need to do this again for another nine months. I'm just not ready yet.