4:34 am. I woke up before the sun was even out. Sadie’s cries filled my ears. I stumbled around the dark room before reaching the light switch, pulling on my robe as I walked out the door. The hallway was dim, but I found my way down the stairs, only tripping a few times. Muscle memory had never been my strong suit.The baby never seemed to stop crying. I basically lived off of four hours of sleep a night... The soft glow of the stars was peeking through the window. It provided just enough light for me to locate the pantry.
I reached into the back corner of the shelf, where the baby formula was carefully tucked away. One bottle of water, one scoop of formula. As directed by the package, I shook the bottle until it was absolutely mixed. The baby was still crying, I had a headache.I walked back up the stairs. One hand rubbing my temple, the other clutching the bottle. I prayed she’d stop crying. The door was cracked open the slightest bit, dark like every other room of the house. I flicked on the lights that were draped along the ceiling.
Sadie was still crying, softer now, though. I picked her up, her cries turning into mumbles as we sat down in the rocking chair beside her crib. Sadie drank her formula, cradled in my arms. I began to sing. This always calmed her down.
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away…”
My eyes wandered down as tears soaked my cheeks. As I stared at the empty crib, the silence became overwhelming.