A circuitous birthday wish

My mother-in-law often reminds me, when I complain about my 8 trips to the bathroom last night in the middle of the night, that nature has a way of getting you ready for baby. I suppose she's right though I'd love a few uninterrupted nights before descending into sleepless-hell. Still, it's comforting that all the getting up and then back down is do-able and I seem to still feel okay the next day. Encouraging, although the bathroom doesn't ask for a boob of milk and a diaper change.

Not to worry though! Last night Sadie took it upon herself to train us in a more realistic way. None of this simply using the bathroom and then collapsing back into the bed with a groan about your gigantic belly. No, no, no. We did not sleep more than an hour at a time and even that was fitful because each time we brought Sadie back to her bed and commanded her to stay! she would inevitably wander back 30 or so minutes later, her untrimmed nails click-clacking on the hardwood floor restlessly, like, mama, someone, get up and help me, I don't feel good. And I wish here I could write that I was patient and loving and snuggled her and tried to determine exactly what was bothering her but no, the lack of sleep and her insistence on just passively pacing our room wore me down so that by the fourth time I put her back in her bed I was none too nice about it. 

By then Bud could tell I was on the verge of a mini-breakdown and so began getting up himself and walking her back to the living room and saying, in fact much more gently than I had, go back to bed Sadie, stay Sadie. No, nooo, not back in our room. 

By this morning I woke up feeling not only tired but incredibly guilty because Sadie is very clear in her wants and needs and I know her signals last night meant she wasn't feeling well. The problem was, and was still until just a couple of hours ago, I had no way to know why. She was not vomiting, her back was not injured (been there so now I know the signs), she was eating, drinking and using the bathroom and so, short of rushing her to the emergency vet with an explanation of, "I seriously have no idea what the problem is, I just know there is one," there was little I could do.

Finally this morning, after much snuggling, apologizing and whispering in her ear to ask her to please tell me what was wrong, I found myself playing with her sweet, floppy left ear and she cried. Ah ha! I gently manipulated it again and she again cried. So now we're scheduled to go into the vet later this afternoon and I'm feeling so much relief that I at least can pin something down for her malaise. Maybe an ear infection, I can handle that. 

But. That's not what this entire post is really about. I know, tricky, right? What it's really about is the man who slogged out of bed over and over again last night, who gently asked my "designer" dog to get back in her bed so mama can go back to sleep for the love of God. The man who turns 27 today and did not even need to ask, but knew I'd been up as much as I could, and so who instead just instinctively took over. 

I am so glad you are the one about to do this baby thing with me. 

Comments

[Summer]

So cute and sweet - Bud is such a keeper.

[The Mom]

And so uplifting to know there are still knights in shining armor and maidens who recognize them.