Dear 3am me,
They’re not doing it on purpose. You might think they are but they’re not. They’re waking up from dreams of dragons shaped like vacuums and cats riding bikes. Being greeted with total darkness. It’s that causing the shouts and cries, not some deep rooted plan to wake you up at the same time each and every night. Endlessly doomed to wake up at 3am.
Except you’re not and you know you’re not. One night they will stay asleep and you’ll all wake up in the morning to the sound of an alarm clock rather than an elbow in the back.
You used to dream of travelling the World, exploring hidden villages in the Atlas Mountains or hiring that boat in Kerala. Then you dreamt of giving birth and holding a baby and how on earth were you suddenly going to learn what you were meant to do.
Then you stopped dreaming because there was no sleeping.
Snatched sleep came and went in waves during the day. Baby sleeps, you sleep. Baby dreams, you have nightmares where you wake soaked in sweat and scrambling at the duvet searching for the buried baby who’s snoozing in their cot in a different room under a different ceiling.
I know you miss your old dreams and would sell a kidney for three nights of unbroken rest...
But never forget at 3am, when that piercing shriek of Mummy filters across the hall and demands your eyelids open, they are crying out for their comfort. For the kiss and hug of a reassuring soul. They are crying for you because you are what they need.
And when your wish is finally granted for the chance to sleep, perchance to dream...
...You will miss those 3am cuddles. Little faces being buried in your dressing gown sleeves and bleary eyes blinking in the light of the moon for you.
It seems like a hideous repetition at the time, but one day this will be the dream that you long to relive.