A Memory

Noah was born at the end of November. In Vermont. This means that waking up with him for those midnight feedings was not a warm and cozy affair. We weren't Dickens characters, we had heat, but getting out of bed each night was a bit of a chilly shock. Justin had just started medical school and was busy working hard during the days and I was staying home, so the task fell to me to take on the midnight feedings. I love my babies, but getting up in the middle of the night for about three months straight is not my idea of a good time. I am one of those keep the lights off, make as little noise as possible, hurry up and get that baby back into bed type of moms. I treasure my sleep and, as sweet as it is to snuggle with a baby in a dark, quiet house, it's a stage I really don't think I'll miss once I'm all done having to do it (other stages, certainly, not so much this one).
I remember that I'd try to hurry and get up to grab Noah before he could wake up the other men in my life (Justin and Clayton). Justin, being the good dad and husband that he is, would typically get up, prepare a bottle, bring it to me while I changed Noah's diaper, and go back to bed. He always did this without complaining and I really appreciated it because it made everything that much smoother and that much faster.
One night, I remember, I was particularly tired. As I was feeding Noah I was getting down and sad in that way that people usually become when they are exhausted. I was bemoaning my lack of sleep, my distance from my mom, my busy days with an active two year old, and endless nights with an infant. Basically, I was feeling sorry for myself.
Eventually I got Noah back to bed (he was my best baby sleeper, bless his heart). I went to get back in my bed only to find Justin sleeping on my side of the bed. We are a couple with very strict sleeping guidlines. He's on the right, I'm on the left and there is no crossing the middle. I was initially confused by this so I remember nudging him to get him to go back to his own side. When he woke up I asked him why he was sleeping on my side. He told me that he was doing it so that when I got back in bed, my side of the bed would already be warm and comfy.
I don't know why this incident has been in my thoughts so much lately, but it is. I think that sometimes I'm looking for these huge overwhelming gestures of love. I admit I'm a romantic and when I watch romantic scenes in movies or read them in books I long for that kind of gesture. Not that Justin isn't good for the occasional big gesture, but it's not reality for relationships to be like that on a daily basis. I think the best I could hope for is having someone in my life who thinks of little things (like making sure my side of the bed is warm for me) and acts on those thoughts. It's probably because I have another baby coming and Justin is busier than he's ever been before, but I'm scared. Sometimes I feel like a single mom and it's hard. I get down on myself sometimes and wish our situation were a little different. But then Justin will do something small and thoughtful, like sleep on my side of the bed, or do the dishes (which he does almost every night btw), or get up with our kids in the morning so I can sleep in even though he has to work the night shift and could use the sleep. It's these little things that remind me just how much he loves me. Sure, flowers and cards and jewlery are nice and pretty, but they require no effort. My husband makes an effort. I don't give him enough credit sometimes for all the things he does to make my life easier, but right now I can't stop thinking about it. These are the types of things that make a relationship last. Truthfully, I'd rather have a million of these small, simple gestures of love than a million big, easy ones. Fortunately, I'm married to a guy who is very good at showing love this way. I love him and I'm grateful to be married to someone who takes the time to do the little things.