It’s 2:14am. I sit in the nursery rocking. Back and forth. Back and forth. The chair squeaks in cadence to the rhythmic movement. A half asleep son is in my arms. He slept so well during months two and three, but I’m finding myself having these middle of the night rocking sessions once again in month four. Thump. Thump. Thump. My hand pats his bottom as I rock. Back and forth. Back and forth. The room is dark, except for the illumination of a lone nightlight in the hall radiating shadows throughout the room. I peak down – his eyes blink heavy. Back and forth, I go. Back and forth.…