Sleep and the lack thereof
I rolled out of bed at 5:40 (because if I have any hope of peeing without audience or gulping a cup of coffee in silence, it has to be done at 5:40am). I quickly contemplated what I would wear for the day. After a quick mental run down of our days plans, I half-slurred to myself, sweatpants. Which seems to be par for the course lately.
This particular morning, deep sleep had eluded me nearly all night. I foolishly went to bed too late for someone of my age and circumstance. 11:40pm, I think it was when last I looked at the clock. I’d like to say that I was up spending much needed quality time with my husband or that I was fueling my soul with the Word. Or at the very least taking in some restorative “me time”. But fact of the matter is, I was wasting precious moments. I traded precious sleep for just one more scroll down the Facebook feed. And while, I guess you could say it was “me time”, it was anything but restorative. Or smart. I’ve read enough to know that screen time is a “no-no” right before bed. And I know myself enough to be aware that I probably should avoid it anytime after about 8pm. I read somewhere once that those sweet and precious hours from about 7pm-11pm are the most trafficked and most addictive hours to be sucked into the internet world. I know this. Yet I still found myself fascinated by everyone else’s world while contentedly ignoring my own.
Until about 12 am that is. 20 short minutes after surrendering my phone to the charger and laying down my head, I was jolted awake by shrieks from the (not-quite) baby. At 16 months I think it’s fair to say he is a full-blown toddler. Yet still a baby. My baby.
I lie there a moment while my body catches up with my brain. Trying to muster the energy to heave my over-weight and over-burdened body out of the bed. The mental debate begins, If I wait just a minute longer maybe he’ll ‘self-soothe’ and fall back asleep. But then 1 minute turns to 5 and I am dangerously close to dozing back to sleep. Yes for those of you wondering, when you have been awoken with screams nearly every night for last 16 months– it is entirely possible to doze off in the midst of your child’s screams. Even now, in hindsight, the mental debate looms, knocking on my heart’s door…I should have just let myself go back to sleep, maybe he would have exhausted himself and we both would have gotten some sleep.
But I know better. I know that for the last 496 days (give or take) my sweet son has out screamed my own resolve to ignore those screams.
Nevertheless, I heave my feet to the floor and with a huff just loud enough to let my husband know that yet again I am tending to the baby, I head to his room. I know what he is seeking. It is that thing I worked hard to break him of at around 10 months and then gave into again shortly after because of a tumultuous vacation that strained our entire families sleep cycles.
A bottle. At 16 months, he is long past needing a nighttime bottle. But oh does he want it.
I know I will give in. I know I will give it to him. And I immediately feel torn. Like trying to avoid a bad habit but knowing you’ve not the strength to do so. I console myself by saying, at least it’s no longer formula, just warm milk. But the guilt hits before my feet hit the floor. Am I doing the right thing? Or am I taking the easy way out? Is there ever an “easy way” when you have a difficult tempered child. Because let me tell you, this screaming does not resign itself to only the wee hours of the night. Perhaps that is why I often give in and give up in the darkness of his room, because I have dealt with screaming and hitting and thrashing ALL DAY. All while trying to properly train a 3 1/2 year old, besides.
This is all new territory for me. And I don’t know what I am doing.
My first-born was and is an entirely different temperament. They all are, I guess. At least that’s what I am told. And while he was physically active and exhausting, the mental and emotional strain was not nearly at this intensity. But don’t compare them, you must not compare them. The mental dialogue continues.
So it was on this particular night and most other nights dotted throughout the last 64 weeks. Sleepless nights that have turned into weeks, that have turned into months that have become well past a year. So after soothing the baby and yes giving him a bottle, I returned to bed. Half asleep and wholly deflated.
Just as I had come to peace with my decision and surrendered to the “survival mode” that is currently my life, a half hearted comment from my husband ignited my brain once again. “You would have never done this for our first-born,” he said.
Wham. That hits me with nearly as much force as the baby’s screams. He’s right. And just like that I am awake again.
Was I a better mother then or now? Was I doing the right thing then or now? Am I giving in to a baby’s demands or giving up on preconceived ideas of how I should handle that baby. Why do I seem to be okay with the latter but not the former? And so the mental interrogation continues.
When it feels like I have no answers and I don’t know what to do, I’ve learned to surrender to the One who does. Here’s the thing about Jesus, he often told people what to do, but not necessarily how to do it. I believe, to leave room for his Holy Spirit to lead and guide and take care of the “how”. So all I can do now is, “Trust in the Lord with all my heart and lean not on my own understanding; in all my ways submit to him, and he will make my paths straight.” P (Proverbs 3:5-6)…and hopefully my nights quiet.
Blooming And Becoming 