Co-Sleeping Nightmare

A thud raised me out of my sleep. One of my worst fears had born fruit. Elijah was no longer in the bed next to me, and with the realization came guilt, horror and fear which rumbled deep in my belly and burst forth in screams that roiled the night, each successively louder than the next. Elijah had fallen off the bed. I dropped to the floor; the soft white of his onesie had caught the glow of the street lights shining through the window. He whimpered slightly as I snatched him off the floor and clutched him to my chest still screaming, but now also sobbing.

Ryan had flown to his knees in the bed above me, his fear spewing forth in guttural hollers that joined in chorus with my screams. And then, he hit me.

Once, twice, three times he swung a pillow at my kneeling form as my screams broke down into racking sobs.

“Lakiya, stop crying,” he yelled. He tried to take the baby from me, but I clutched him tighter in my madness. “Stop crying,” he said again.

His commandments only induced me to do the opposite.

Finally reason broke in and I handed Elijah to Ryan.

“Take him! Take him! Stop telling me to stop crying,” I said through a dry heave.

Elijah lay quietly in Ryan’s arms, looking back and forth at the two of us.

My hands shook violently and I prayed in gibberish, asking for Elijah to be okay.

He was and more shocked than hurt, he stared at me wide-eyed.

And then, I began to laugh in joy. My laziness had finally been good for something. A pile of clothes on the floor had broken his fall. But the emotion that poured forth, took over my body, and made me move so quickly filled me with such awe, that I could only crack up till the tears rolled freely down my aching cheeks.

Ryan turned on the lights and we inspected Elijah’s head and back for evidence of knots or bruises. He lay there quietly, and smiled at us through his sleepiness. He was okay.

I put him back in the crib where he belonged, but an hour later he was back in the bed, refusing to stay asleep unless he was next to us.

This time, I put him in the middle.

Almost A Year Later

So, I've let the blog slide would be an understatement. But, I believe with a little revisioning, I can get back on track. I'm no longer pregnant, but actually 8 months into motherhood. Wow. I've been a mother for eight months. I don't have anything profound to write at this abiding moment except that his name is Elijah and he is the llove of my life. Though I'm no longer Pregnant in the City, my life is pregnant with possibility. So shall I rename? or continue with this blog? Not sure, I haven't decided. Maybe I'll finish the 11 posts I started and never finished.