“Mommy.” I heard Freya’s voice from down the hall. I was awake — seems like I always am in some state of wakefulness. I don’t know what time it was. The baby was asleep next to me, having just nursed back down, and seemed pretty still, so I crept away and went to Freya’s room.

She was laying there with covers drawn back. The dog was curled up at the foot of the bed, a huge black comforting shape dimly illuminated by the nightlight. Freya looked at me wide-eyed, and coughed a little. I sat beside her.

“Do you need some water?”

“Yes.”

I fetched the water and watched her drink it, then had her lay back down again. Her eyes were rolling back in her head; I suspected she was barely awake herself. I suddenly felt the need to cuddle with her, so I climbed in and balanced on the edge of the bed.

Freya rolled toward me and put an arm around me, then she melted softly against my chest, and for one sweet little moment, she was my baby again, and I remembered all those nights she shared our bed, how she required an arm around me, and burrowed her face into my neck. I don’t know why it seems like so long ago — a year ago we were still co-sleeping with her, but it was nearly at and end because my pregnancy was making it difficult, and we wanted her to transition to her room well before Audrey was born.

Anyway, last night I lay there with her a few minutes, then said to her that I would tuck her in now. I sat up and pulled the covers up around her body. She rolled over to face her stuffed animal collection without a sound. “Good dog, Kona.” I pet our dog’s soft head, and then returned to my bed, to my other baby.