Of Helplessness

He's not getting enough to eat.

He's too hot.

He's having an allergic reaction to his diapers.

He's too cold.

He's teething.

The Pack n' Play is too small - maybe he feels crowded.

Maybe the bed is too hard.

Maybe he's gassy.

These are all the excuses, plus more, we find for why our son, who has slept without waking for 12 hours since he was three months old, will suddenly NOT sleep through a night without screaming at some point.  When we're visiting family, he won't even fall asleep on his own.  When we're at home he wakes up in the wee hours of the morning, screaming so loudly we come to believe he won't ever return to slumber without assistance. 

So we become a crutch. 

Snuggling, rocking, feeding him to sleep. 

I tell myself this is only for a season (which it is) and I treasure these limited moments of holding my son close in the middle of the night (which I do), but deep down I want to lay down next to him and cry myself to sleep as well.  I'm not used to a fussy baby.  Especially one who started life so calm and mellow.  And all I want to do is make it better.

So I pray.

Because after running through the aforementioned list of excuses and seeking solutions for each individual issue, it seems praying is all a momma can do.