Bleary eyed, I rush, bump and stumble into her room.
If you’d asked me to do this, I’d bite your head off, no really. This is the zillionth night in a row, and, on top of everything else. But I do it anyway. In part on auto-pilot, in part because there is a need and I want to. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no hero, I’m not even close.

I stick my hands under her arms and lift her. she, as she does so often, takes a pause with a breath, and then opens her eyes for a little, little look. She continues to cry, all the while knowing she is being comforted.

Warm and snug, she fits.

The cheating clock, grins at me again. Ha ha tick, ha ha tick.

As I hold her, we walk, and talk, I pat her, we bump and walk, I talk, we walk. she mummers and coos, we walk and bump. And as I talk, she coos, as the coos drift along, she become heavier and delicate sleep envelopes her.

Grace is nearing 10 months and is teaching me unconditional love. Both as a giver and as a receiver. She’s a good teacher and at 10 months, the lessons are thick and fast. I’m leaning that tolerance is not a fixed place.
And whilst I knew unconditional love before, This is different. Deeper.
Wider. Broader.

Again, my love is on the inside.