Mom's Antennae

The first night after we brought Connor home from the hospital he slept in his own room, and we kept the baby monitor on in our bedroom. Neither of us slept a wink. We heard every breath Connor took, every rustle he made, practically every heartbeat. That was the end of that. We never brought a baby monitor into our room again. Connor's room was just across the hall from ours, and we were both able to sleep soundly, but I still heard every tiny wimper he made. God gives mothers special ears. I call it Mom's antennae. There is something about childbirth that enhances our hearing.

Last night, I don't even know what I heard but suddenly I sat up in bed and said "Chris.... Nellie!" I sleep on the far side of the bed from the door and I was immediately afraid I wouldn't get to her in time. I took off running. Chris didn't hear a thing before my footsteps pounding toward the door. Sure enough, the stomach flu had hit our house, taking our baby girl down for the count. It was around 2:30 a.m., and I don't think I fully fell back to sleep before the second time I heard a noise. It was about 4:15 and it sounded like a cough, magnified so that it sounded like it was right next to my ear. This time I had to change her sheets, so I woke Chris to sit with her in the bathroom while I gathered the laundry, carried it down to the washing machine, and put fresh sheets on the bed. All the while, Chris sat on the floor in the hallway shaking his head and saying "I don't understand how you heard her". Mama's ears — one of God's amazing gifts.

My last interuption was around 5:30 a.m. Chris didn't rouse at all for that one, although he murmured something about "Sorry you're having a rough night" when I climbed back into bed. I reset my alarm for 7:30 and finally settled into a sound sleep. Today, Janelle and I have stayed pretty close to my bed. I got up for lunch, and she has stayed to watch TV. We read some of a chapter book for a while. She still isn't able to even keep water down, so she hasn't eaten at all, and she is pathetically pale. But she's content to stay in my bed and doze and look at books and watch her shows, even when I go downstairs. She knows I'll hear her if she needs me. She has perfect faith in Mama's ears.