Last night, my sleep was disturbed again and again by uneasy dreams. I can't even tell you what they were about - only the vaguely sick feeling in my stomach lingers. This has been a long, crazy week, so I think my subconscious is getting in a few kicks, reminding me that other things have been left undone.

I'm the only one awake at this hour - the kids are asleep in their beds and my husband is sprawled out, silently resting in this last hour before dawn. Already I can see the sky lightening. I'd love to go back to bed, but the grasping tendrils of my dreams have pulled me down one too many times, and I'm cutting my losses.

In these dark and quiet minutes, I can feel the chill in the air. The first birds are singing. I have a steaming mug in my hands, and my fuzzy robe on. The day feels full of promise. I'm a little surprised, given the weird dreams, but having this time to reflect while the family dreams on has brought a sense of peace.

It has been a while since I greeted the dawn. It used to always be in the company of a kid or two (or three.) I've watched the sun rise holding feverish kids. I've welcomed the new day countless times while nursing my babies. But we've been pretty healthy this year, and it has been years since I've held a nursling. Still, the peace is the same.

It feels like I have been given a private gift.