I lay in bed and the world around me is silent except for the sounds of life, resting.
A few feet away I hear tiny baby breaths and sighs. Next to me I hear heavy and rythmic husband breaths and sighs. And through the open internal door to the next room I hear toddler breaths and sighs.
We share rooms and a heater between the four of us.
Everyone sleeps but me.
Moments later baby stirs. I lay still, barely breathing, hoping he will not wake.
He rolls over. Back asleep.
I sigh with relief just as he stirs again, this time waking with an abrupt cry.
It sounds angry.
After eight months I wonder when he will ever sleep through the night. Except for a few nights he regularly wakes up all throughout the night. Sometimes every two hours, leaving me with four or five or sometimes six hours of sleep, usually broken into several chunks.
I groan and move, not wanting to face the cold night air.
No one said parenting would be easy.
I pull him into bed with me and nurse, nurse, nurse. Wondering how long I can continue on interrupted sleep (and insomnia in between).
I remember that mothers all over the world and all throughout time have done as I’m doing.
The days are long but the years are short so I don’t want to waste this time being anxious about the dark hours.
And yet I’m so tired. So, so tired.
I remind myself that this time last year I was about to find out that his life might not be what we thought or expected. And now him being here with us, just like he is – healthy, perfect – is a miracle. Surely I can find the grace for one more night.
And perhaps tomorrow night too.
But my goodness, I’m so tired.
Q for you: How do you cope with less-than-ideal seasons of sleep?
Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.