Day Forty-Five: Tears

This is part of a creative project called 100 Word, 100 Days. In this project I’ll be writing a 100 word piece about my experience as a new mother every day for 100 days. Read more here.

Hers, and mine too.

Hers because she’s wet, or dirty, or hungry, or bored, or overwhelmed. Or tired. So very tired. Overtired.

Mine, two different ways. She will not nap. She refuses to go down, and I do not know what to do. I am her mother. I am supposed to know. I have no idea.

Rocking her hours later in the silent dark, trying to put her to sleep. She’s staring up at me. I ask her if she finds her father and I as miraculous as we find her. The joyful tears well as I stroke her cheek.