This is the first night in months that I will spend without the baby. I've been waiting for this night for so long, that when it's finally here I feel like I'm betraying him; like hoping for a night away from him makes me a terrible father. What other kind of father, after all, wants to stay away from his son?
Well, it's one night.
And in my defense, I miss him. I missed having dinner with him and I missed telling him good night. And now, even though he would have been asleep, I miss knowing he's in the other room. I miss being responsible for him, even when he sleeps.
Tomorrow night he'll be here. Maybe he'll throw food off his tray. Maybe he'll scream. Maybe he won't go to sleep for a while. Maybe when he finally does, he'll wake up every two hours. Maybe eventually I'll bring him upstairs, where he'll spend the rest of the night pulling his mother's hair and kicking me.
But tonight, I'll just have to kick myself to sleep.