after missing a couple naps today and having a rough night last night, lucy’s eyes began to droop at about 7:30 (she usually goes to bed around 8:30 or so). with several unsuccessful attempts under my belt, i finally left lucy in her crib about an hour and a half ago. i have been laying here in bed ever since listening to her cry.

crying doesn’t really bother me, but laying here in the silence—only hearing the sound of her tears—is a difficult thing. it’s not that i am running low on patience or on the verge of exploding on her. in fact, for me, it’s quite the opposite. when all you have to do is lay here and think, you begin to realize how deeply you hurt when your child hurts. in this case, it isn’t like lucy is hurting (she just thinks someone is going to come “rescue her” from bedtime…), so i’m not in some kind of emotional agony. it’s just that these are the times that you get to thinking about how deeply you love another person.

i love christen beyond words. she is an inseparable part of me. truly, two have become one. while my spouse forever gets top billing in my heart, one’s children are a wholly different thing. it’s a mystery that i can’t expound upon in full adequacy or wax poetically enough to do justice. there is a piece of me that lives within lucy. in her pain, i hurt. when she breaks, i break. when she falls, i fall with her. when she cries, i cry.

so now, in some kind of divine timing—as i wind down my thoughts about this profound and mysterious love for my baby girl—lucy has surrendered and gone down for her night’s sleep.

in her rest, i now find peace.

good night, little girl.