I've been here before.
Lying on the couch... restless. Except this time, there is no wiggling baby in my belly keeping me awake. No feeling like my pelvis is breaking in two. No back ache or nausea or heartburn (thank God).
The two loves of my life are sleeping peacefully in my bed down the hall. Like to peas in a pod, those two. Sleeping in the same exact position with synchronized breathing. Both of their chests rising and falling in unison. Each one kicking the blanket off when I try to cover them. Each one stealing a piece of my heart with every passing second.
I am awake, and yet I am dreaming. Sometimes, most times, I don't know what I ever did to deserve this life I'm living. I say a silent prayer thanking God for all He has blessed me with -- but especially for them.
Before I leave the bedroom, I make a barricade of pillows on the bed. Again, it takes me back to my pregnancy. That same collection of pillows kept me from rolling over onto my back while I slept; when the nights got long and uncomfortable. This time, I pile them up to keep my baby safe in other ways; to keep her from falling off the bed. Better safe than sorry.
I make my way to the couch, meandering the few steps from our doorway to the living room. Trying to avoid the creaky spots in the floor. Careful not to wake them.
I grab a blanket, close the curtains, and get myself situated - hoping for rest. This is the place that served as my bed for the final few nights of my pregnancy. I reflect. How little did I know then how full my heart could get.
I am blessed.
I am thankful.
I am theirs.