Well, between teething and growing pains, we haven't gotten a good night's sleep in our household for a while now. When I say "We" I mean me and the one year old. Hubby works night shift and the teenager is on the other side of the house. It's a small house, though, so I have no idea how he could ignore his baby brother screaming and crying. And at some moments, I'm not sure who's screams and cries are the loudest, mine or the baby's.
It usually only lasts about an hour or less, but it seems like an eternity. I now understand why my mom always said she wished it was her hurting instead of me. And I can't wait until my little boy can actually talk so he can tell me what hurts. And maybe then, I can explain to him (and hopefully he'll be able to understand) why he's hurting.
It's not that I want him to grow up quicker. Lord knows he's growing up fast enough as it is. But watching him with tears rolling down his cheeks and looking at me with that "Please make it go away!" look, just about kills me.
But then, when the pain goes away and he curls up in my arms to go back to sleep, with that unconditional love and trust... I know that he'll be ok. And maybe so will I.