Watching Baby Sleep

Thin paper eyelids closed, a fragile and precious state of hard won sleep. Defiant toes refusing to rest twitching rhythmically beneath blankets. Feather light sighs of breath and a cherubic mouth periodically dream suckling. Tiny imagined milk bubbles tickling the dark pink lips. In an enforced silence, a necessary calmness is spread to parents tip toeing around the baby.

Suddenly, a violent awakening. Arms flailing, head half raised, panic flying across the face, a small formless cry. "Where am I? I am alone! I have been abandoned!". But sometimes, just sometimes, a heavy warm hand on her chest and a sight of mum is all it takes for the panic to subside and sleep once more to wash over the tiny features and for calm neutrality to return to the face. My baby's sleep is a gift to me and I will return refreshed when she has had her fill of rest.