My mind races.
I know I need sleep, but I lay awake scrolling through old photos on my phone. What did Emily look like at Ryan’s age? I can’t remember.
I look at photos of her at almost five months. I can’t really recall this stage. How was my big girl once this baby? I have a memory of it somewhere, but it’s so hazy.
Will I recall how adorable he was at almost five months with a smile that lit up a whole room? Will I remember the cute things she said when she was 3 like “yittle” and “yots and yots”?
The questions don’t stop. My mind doesn’t stop.
But I so desperately need sleep so I put down my phone and close my eyes; wishing for just a few consecutive hours before we begin again, and I see their sweet faces in the morning.
Now it’s morning. I didn’t get much sleep again. Just two hour pockets here and there. I feel like I haven’t slept at all.
I nurse him as I write this and wonder how I’ll get through today. I hear her waking, her dad goes to her.
Another day with my two that I’ll probably store away somewhere. Another day where I have the gift of watching them grow, even if I see everything through the fog of my exhaustion.
Will they remember how I was always there doing my best even when it wasn’t so great? I hope somewhere deep inside they’ll know. Maybe it will be in a hazy way, but I hope in some way they’ll remember.