January 21, 2026
Dear Sophia,
I just took the most expensive nap I’ve ever taken.
I don’t know if I woke up first from the lack of your weight on my chest or the sound of a thump on the floor. Your mother came in from the bathroom faster than the speed of sound. She may have arrived before you landed.
It was late at night, we were all exhausted, and I had fallen asleep with you on my chest. You had rolled off my chest, and then, apparently, onto the bed, and from there onto the floor. You began to cry.
I was aghast. Your mom was horrified. But she didn’t blame me. “That’s why we can’t fall asleep,” was all she said. That’s all she said. But she was shaken.
I picked you off the floor and embraced you against my chest, standing and jogging you up and down, and you quieted down immediately. I did that for a while, your mother looking on in shock, and then I lay down with you again and held you. You were so peaceful. I gently patted your back with my left hand and your bottom with my right, over and over.
That’s when I knew you could be a stuntwoman.
January 22, 2026
Dear Sophia,
When you woke up at 4:45am or so, about five hours after rolling off the bed, you had trouble latching to mom to feed. She thought it was unusual. You wouldn’t take the nipple in spite of being fussy, I could tell she was worried there was a connection. “Please eat, baby. Please eat.”
Like maybe you had forgotten something. I looked it up on ChatGPT, which recommended having you checked for neurological damage. The nurse at Kaiser, when I called, said the same, just in case. Because you’re so small. Right about then you latched and fed for 25 minutes. We decided to take you to the hospital anyway. So now we’re sitting in Children’s Hospital in DC.
***
You’ve just had your third or fourth exam. They’re going over the same things. We’ve been here over three hours. Your reactions are normal and symmetrical. They took you for a CT scan. You’ve been sleeping a lot. For four and a half hours after the fall and most of the time since we got here. Not reacting that much to three of the four proddings you’ve undergone. All I can think of is how much I was encouraged to sleep, and did sleep, after I suffered a concussion in around 2017, when I crashed on my road bike coming down a hill in Boulder, Colorado.
Everything was normal but the ER bill confirmed it was the most expensive nap I’ve ever taken.
***
Your face sometimes forms itself into elements of a smile, but it’s not a real smile yet — yours is all in the facial muscles, not yet in the eyes. It’s like your face is in training for the ability to smile.
I can’t wait for that, but I will, because right now there is just so much to pay attention to and be present and grateful for. I don’t need to wish for something different.
