3 am

     Sometimes at 3 am I wake from a dark hard sleep and I tiptoe into your nursery and I gently put my hand on your tiny chest just to make sure you're still breathing. I know this may interrupt your perfect night of sleep, but it's worth it just to know you're still breathing. I turn around and tiptoe back into the bedroom so I don't wake your dad. I  crawl back into bed releasing a deep sigh because I know I'll never sleep like I once slept before I met you.

     I'm a mom now. It is my job to worry. I have this funny feeling the worrying may never end. I may never truly sleep again. It takes me back to a time I broke the rules and defied my curfew to find my dad sitting in the recliner as I tiptoed in the front door. 

     I offered up an apology, "I'm sorry, Dad. It was out of my control."

     He didn't say anything because he didn't have to. I knew I disappointed him. He calmly got out of his recliner and slowly walked back down to his bedroom. The next day I approached him again.

     "I'm sorry about last night, Dad," I said. As I began to piece together an excuse he interrupted me.

     "I'm disappointed in you," he said. "I trusted you."

     And that was all he had to say because I was never late again. Now as I look back on that experience my self frustration is multiplied tenfold. My Dad probably has no recollection of the incident but I know what it feels like to be a parent helplessly packed with so much responsibility for this life you must protect. 

     I know what it means to sit in the recliner now.