Between Sleep and Awake

There is a fleeting, ethereal place, between sleep and awake. Where my dreams are nearly tangible, where the line between what is real and what is not is blurred.

For a year, I hated that place. For it was in that sleepy state that I would think I heard his voice, felt his weight shift on the bed, or had his arm wrapped around my waist. I would jolt back into reality, which bore down on me like a freight train, and which left me floundering throughout the rest of my day.

After Layla was born, in that sleepy place, I would snuggle with the tiny little creature that came into my life, resting and relaxing, and bonding with my child. Countless mornings I whiled away that time, with a stream of songs playing in the background, lazily watching the stars go by during the night, or the clouds during the early mornings. That space became our time, when I would soak in the life that curled up in my arms, and she would curl her fingers around mine and sleep.

When Carl came home, that time somehow slipped away, it got lost in the juggle of the real world, in where are the keys, did I lay out pt clothes, have you seen my running shoes. I will admit, I wondered where those sleepy mornings had gone off to, just as I wonder where the tiny newborn I was so in awe of has gone. Like those misty mornings, my tiny little baby is gone, replaced by a thriving, growing life now, crawling, chewing on things, giggling at the dog.

This weekend, when the sun was just starting to creep up over the horizon, Layla stirred, wanting a bottle, needing a diaper change, and after both, we snuggled into my bed, with her resting in the spot between my heart and Carl's shoulder. It took just a few moments, before she was back asleep, that deep, relaxed sleep that only children seem to ever have.

Somewhere, and sometime, I woke back up, and found myself in that state in-between sleep and awake. I realized then, that it was my entire family in the bed. Those moments that I had missed, those quiet moments with my still sleepy child, they are all still there, just, like everything, they have changed. Instead of just me, it became Carl and Jenn. Instead of just Carl and Jenn, it became Carl, Jenn, and Layla. And those moments are not just mine anymore, with my child, they are our moments, with our child.

In the months of work, sorting out gear, packing up our stuff, doing laundry, cleaning bottles, grocery shopping… I had not yet gotten used to the idea of having Carl home. I said over and over how weird it was to have him in the house, I wondered about, and worried over how long it was taking me to find my groove. It often felt like I couldn't breathe, that life was spinning out of control and the harder I tried to get used to things, the less I could. So much had changed, and I could just not keep up with the changes fast enough.

And on Sunday, all of that melted away, in that spot between sleep and awake, when I realized that we are a whole family. Pulled apart by war, kept going by love and hope, and then… with a little time, we came back together.

I had no idea it would take this long to see it… but my world is whole again.