Ode to my Fellow Mariner
I am startled awake by a now familiar wail as my baby dictates it's time to get up. By the bare fade of sunrise I see my husband start to stir.
"Want me to get him?" He asks.
My relief is sudden and intense. "Oh that would be amazing," I say.
He pulls on a pair of jeans and shuffles out. I hear them both in the next room, my husband whispering what sound like questions and the baby cooing in response.
I close my eyes, allowing myself to feel how truly tired I am. The bed under me, the covers on top, and the dim light around envelop me like a womb. At this moment, my husband could not have given me a greater gift.
I think about how we are no longer two people going about our business alongside each other. We are like two sailors who have been tossed into the same skiff to navigate the waters of parenthood together, which can be at turns calm, choppy, or downright perilous. At this moment, with my eyes closed, I thank my lucky stars for my compatriot.