They laid me gently in my crib

 They laid me gently in my crib, smiled softly, and closed the door behind them. Darkness filled the room.

At first, I did not understand. Why was everything so quiet? Feeling a little scared, I called out. Once. Then again. I heard the door open, and my little heart filled with hope: “Finally, they’re coming back for me.” But a soft voice from far away whispered, “Shh… it’s time to sleep.” And the door closed again.

I was alone. Even more alone than before. The darkness felt deeper now. I cried a little louder, hoping that this time Mom would come. But every time I called, all I heard was the same quiet whisper: “Shh, shh… it’s time to sleep.”

I cried again and again. Maybe they could not hear me. Maybe they did not know where I was. So I cried louder. I kicked my little legs against the crib. I did everything I could to tell them: “I’m here. Please come get me. I need you.” But nothing happened. No one came.

After a while, my crying became quieter. Not because I was no longer afraid. Not because I felt calm. But because I began to understand that no matter how hard I cried, no one was coming. I did not want to bother anyone anymore. So I stayed there in the dark, waiting for arms around me, for a familiar voice, for a kiss on my forehead. But nothing came.

It has been several nights now. When they put me in my crib, I hardly cry anymore. I stay quiet. I have learned that crying does not help. I have learned that in the darkness, I am alone. Maybe I am a difficult baby. Maybe that is why they do not come.

Every night, I still hope. Every night, I think, “Maybe tonight. Maybe tonight they will come back for me. Maybe they will pick me up, hold me close, and tell me I am not alone.” But every night, the darkness remains my only company.

A child does not cry to manipulate. A child cries because it is the only way they know how to say, “I need you.”

When we leave a child alone in the dark, they do not simply learn how to fall asleep. They may learn that their calls go unanswered. They may learn that their needs do not matter. They may learn loneliness.

I know parents are tired. I know they are overwhelmed. I know they worry about doing the wrong thing. And I know many have heard the advice to “just let the baby cry.” But a child should not have to feel abandoned in order to learn how to sleep.

One day, they will leave your arms. One day, they will no longer crawl into your lap looking for comfort. One day, they will not call for you in the night. And when that day comes, you may realize how precious those long nights really were.

Listen while they still call for you. Comfort them while they still cry. Love them while they still need you so openly. Because that need does not last forever.