Hydrangeas, blooming cheerfully in the back garden
Is there a word for “I’m extremely sleep-deprived and falling apart a little at the seams?”
Asking for a friend.
It’s weird how things just falter sometimes. My son, who turned one only last week — which, no, I don’t understand how that happened, I’m more than sure he was born a minute ago — has been knee-deep in a sleep-regression that has lasted for almost two months now, and at this point, I’m not sure it’s related to anything. Teeth, we guessed the first two weeks, and then just pulled helmets and safety jackets on, and hoped, are still hoping, for the best.
I mean, in the first bleary-eyed months, there was a predictability to his schedule. There was a certain rhythm to the sleep-deprivation, a cadence, a dance of steps I knew. Every two hours, an invisible clock chimed a bell only he could hear, and I would feed him, change him and play with him before putting him down for a nap; at night, these steps would repeat, and end with me stumbling back to bed in the dark, wishing sleep would let me in, just one more time.
And then, as time progressed, the need for night feeds faded, the time between feeds during the day became longer, and all of a sudden, in mid-April, there were actual nights again, where he slept from six in the evening to five in the morning — sometimes even to seven in the morning (!) — and it felt, a little, like being reborn. But now, it feels like we’re back at the beginning of the race; only the finish line has vanished and the tracks are currently undergoing construction.
Of course I’m endlessly grateful for the little cuddles, the murmurs of “mama” (“Mummy”) and “ba” (“Book”) and “dada” (Daddy), the cheerful waves when someone leaves, the regal clapping of his hands when he finishes his food, the little skip-hop-drop to the back garden when we leave the door open in the summer heat, but needless to maybe say, life, lately, has been a little rough.
I’m so tired, I’m only just mustering the energy to care for him during the day, care for the home whilst he naps, cook after he goes to bed and do the laundry every moment in-between — and that leaves little room for me. I feel like I’ve been fighting my way through the necessary, but now I’m ready to look beyond the must-happens towards the future. There’s too many things I still want to do, too many stories I still want to share, too many dreams I still have.
So I’ll see you all tomorrow with a post all about the how I’m planning to get unstuck and get started on those very goals. Better late than never, as they always say.
I’d love to hear from you in the comments. How’s life been for you lately? Wishing you, and your loved ones, health and safety in these trying times.