So it's late, really late, so late that it's actually early...early Monday morning. I edit/type/respond to clients/check Facebook/check e-mail...alone in the house. Well not exactly alone, my family is sleeping.
I keep my littlest one, I guess she is still considered a newborn at 12 weeks, in the room with me when I stay up late. She's the one that wakes up most frequently and I can get her to lull back to sleep pretty easily. A simple hand on her chest, binky back in mouth, cradling of her head usually does the trick.
Tonight she's been particularly quiet, hadn't heard a peep in hours. So quiet that I did that thing. You know...that thing...all of us mother's do it at some point in time. I went in close for a look. Stood really really still. Seemed like many moments flew by. Waiting. Waiting to see her chest rise, you know, to make sure she's actually still breathing. Of course, she was. But I just had to be sure. And then...you do it again, just in case your eyes were playing tricks on you the first time you saw her chest rise up and down.
Speaking of which, that's been about an hour ago or more. I better go check again ; )