The bedding situation at the transition home was...luxurious. Downy comforters, pillows, a stuffed animal or two...which makes for a cozy, warm, soft environment for sleeping babies. Here, we worry about suffocation. So, I have lovingly placed my baby in the sterile pack and play.
When he got tired of that, I started laying him on his side. The side thing alone was the solution for about a day. One night, he kept waking up. No, that sentence isn't strong enough.
Every single stinkin' time I let my hand off of his back. He would flop his arm over and his eyes would fly open. Argh, the frustration! I've got things to do (like dishes, reading books to the older four, laundry...), I can't stand all night long with my hand on his back. Frantically, I looked around the room. What could I possibly do to keep him asleep?
I saw the answer--a teddy bear that sits on my dresser. It was perfect. Within arms reach and big enough to fake Josiah out. I know, "Teddy bear on her dresser? I underestimated your flaky factor, Apryl."
This isn't just any old bear.
My grandpa died almost three years ago. He had the opportunity to love on each one of my older three kids. We brought Ella home shortly before he got sick. The first time he met her; he was in the hospital. He never knew of our decision to adopt again. He was a very distinctive man; a full-time farmer with a law degree. I remember him in a button down blue shirt working on the farm (or watching the news). The shirts were soft and thin from wear. A woman from hospice told my grandma that she would make her some bears from his old shirts. My grandma took her up on the offer, and the one she gave me sat on my dresser.
Tonight, Josiah woke up, rolled over, and looked up at me. Then, just as I was about to pick him up, he reached out and patted the bear's head until he fell asleep.