Last night, I helped my mom make up the couch and I kissed her goodnight. I gently shook my husband (with my foot) and he woke up off the floor and headed up to bed.
I followed him up, slowly.
First I stopped in on my baby and noticed how he suddenly filled the crib. He snored softly and clutched his blankie, looking like the sweetest little thing on Earth.
Next I checked in on my little girl, the only one Ill have. I moved dogs and bears, and the rest of the menagerie over so she would have a little room to sleep. I brushed her soft yellow curls away from her face and soaked in the smatter of freckles across her nose.
My biggest boy was next. My heart sank at his swollen eyes, chapped cheeks, and drippy nose. I said a silent curse to the trees blowing their pollen around our yard. I watched his chest rise and fall, reassured that he was breathing easy. My heart filled up again thinking about how he never complains about his obvious discomfort.
I climbed into bed and listened to the rhythm of my husband's sleepy breath and felt the warmth of his body right next to me.
After 4 nights in the hospital, it was the most perfect moment I could imagine.