Gabrielle Meyer - A Mother In The Making

She held her breath as the baby quieted. The ticking of the hall clock was the only sound.

Marjorie let out the breath and closed her eyes again—but this time Laura’s unmistakable cries filled the night.

Marjorie flipped onto her stomach and pulled the pillow over her head. “No,” she fairly cried. Why couldn’t the baby sleep for longer than two hours at a time?

Laura’s cries grew in intensity and Marjorie finally pushed the covers back and practically fell out of the warm bed. Her slippers were somewhere in the abyss of darkness, and her wrapper had fallen off the end of the bed and was probably pooled on the floor.

She flipped on the light, frustration making her movements quick and awkward. If she didn’t quiet Laura, Lilly would soon be awake, followed by Petey, and then she’d be up much longer reading to the little boy to put him back to sleep.

Marjorie quickly located her slippers and tossed her wrapper on as she exited her room and tiptoed into the nursery. Lilly’s bed was against the far wall, where a swatch of moonlight filtered into the room in an elongated rectangle from the window. The girl was still asleep.

Laura’s cries grew louder and Marjorie’s own eyes filled with tears. She just wanted to sleep.

Marjorie arrived at the cradle and peeked over the edge. Laura’s face was scrunched up and she was wailing at the top of her lungs.

“Shh,” Marjorie whispered, jostling the cradle.

Laura immediately quieted and her eyes opened. She looked at Marjorie and a sweet smile lifted her chubby cheeks, a coo bubbling from her mouth.

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