Day 41: 18 December 2025

 Poem -- Dear 4am, Love A Tired Mom

Hello 4am,

It’s me again. 

Baby woke up at 3:30am

Crying. 

Nappies were changed.

Food was procured

and eaten. 

Now he’s sleeping in my arms

his hand reaching across my chest

and up towards my neck. 

He’s so long now

that his legs cascade down my right side

feet resting gently on the bed next to me.

He looks peaceful, serene. 

And looking at him

fills my heart with so much love. 

But now I’m awake. 

He’s wanted me to hold him, 

sitting up,

while he sleeps

so often at night recently. 

My body has decided it has to be

really tired before I can (go back to) sleep

sitting up. 

And I don’t want him to wake up for the day

at 4:30am

at 5am. 

We’re aiming for at least 6am; 

something after 6:30am would be even better. 

And he sleeps better in my arms.

So here I am: 

Sitting up in bed,

Holding him, 

And scrolling on my phone 

At 4am. 

It’s so quiet

at 4am. 

And dark. 

Because it is winter now 

and it gets dark early 

and stays dark late. 

All I hear is: 

the whir of the fan

and the gentle, rhythmic breathing of my husband, 

and occasionally a swallow from baby. 

I am waiting for the day this phase will pass. 

When 3:30 am

or 4am

or 4:30am

or even 5 or 5:30am

won’t seem like a good time to wake up

to him. 

Until then, 

I’ll be here. 

Sitting up in the glow of the nightlight

(and probably also a screen), 

holding him, 

and scrolling 

(or sometimes reading on my Kindle)

at 4am. 

Until tomorrow then, 

I guess.