In the silence I hear my heart beating

I can't recall the last time the house was this silent. My wife and son are asleep, there is no construction going on outside the window, the TV is off, and I have even freed myself from the ubiquitous iPod for the evening. No sound other than the keyboard and the freight train of thoughts running through my head.

The silence is even more treasured given how noisy things were earlier on. Poor William, due to - something - did not want to sleep, concerning because of how little sleep he has had today. As can happen, putting him down to sleep was met with a great deal of resistance and "crying like he swallowed the fiery moon."

Fortunately, numerous efforts did eventually work, and William has been asleep for just over two hours. Tiffany, exhausted, followed soon after. I am standing (okay, sitting) guard next to William's room, listening to the baby monitor and feeling my heart skip a beat every time I hear a peep, hoping it's not a precursor to him waking up and starting this process over again.

My first concern is for William's well-being. We had him on a fairly strong routine over his first two months, but difficulties arose last week with the onset of a growth spurt. The standard "Eat, play, then go to sleep" cycle hasn't worked out well in these recent days. We are aware how important sleep is to William's growth, so we're hoping that with some minor adjustments, he'll be able to get to sleep easier once more.

Then there is my poor wife - as if she hasn't been put through enough, she operates on a 24-hour cycle. I worry that she doesn't get enough sleep, so I'm thrilled that she hopped into bed right away. With William's pattern being as unpredictable as it is, who knows when she'll have to get up to feed him again?

Tiffany and I are both people of routine, so whenever a curveball is thrown, it raises our panic levels somewhat. As I held William, trying to rock him as he howled, I thought to myself, "What if this doesn't work? What will you do the next time?" As any parent will tell you, raising children is like facing a great deal of curveballs. You can't predict anything. It's terrifying, but also a good way to break out of a routine, and think outside the box a bit. It's just that the stakes are so high.

So I sit in silence, listening for my baby, but hoping to hear nothing. I have been too scared to turn on the dishwasher, fearing any sound would wake William, but perhaps the time has come to get on with it.