Deja Who?

I am an extremely heavy sleeper, and woe to him who tries to wake me. Once, when I was in
high school, my mom tried to wake me from a nap. I didn't wake up... but I did kick her in the face. Thus, during my pregnancy, one of my greatest fears was that I would have the same sort of "knee-jerk" reaction when my little ones would try to wake me for their midnight snacks. People reassured me that once they were born, everything would change. I would develop "mommy ears," and would effortlessly awaken at the drop of hat. No such luck. What really happened was that I became quite adept at nursing in my sleep. I'm rarely entirely cognizant of what I'm doing in the middle of the night, and seldom remember how many times I was up... but somehow we make it.

Sometimes those midnight feedings can be unutterably precious bonding moments. The other night, I awoke to Isaiah's cries of desperate hunger. I took my litte boy into my arm, and when he found my breast, he gave a little sigh of contentment and nestled against me. I cuddled and kissed him, whispered softly to him, and it was precious indeed. Then, just as he was satisfied and falling back asleep, his brother began to cry. So I rolled over...

And there was Isaiah.

There was a slight moment of panic. Are there two Isaiah's? No... that must not be it... but this child that just woke up was definitely Isaiah. That must not have been Isaiah that I was snuggling. I rolled back over and looked. Sure enough, that had been Nathan all along.

In that moment I knew a little of what Isaac must have felt when Esau returned from the hunt.

But fortunately I have plenty of cuddles to go around. So I just rolled over and cuddled Isaiah all over again.

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