“The nights are long but the years are short” they say… They are probably right, but when you’re yet to make it through a year it’s all just very long.
The unsettledness continued throughout the night as predicted, although i coped seemingly better. Perhaps because i gave up hope of any rest or perhaps because i was trying to be understanding of where my little mate was at in life, constantly growing and changing. Or perhaps it was because i was trying to gain perspective on my situation, one that in reality so many women will never get to experience for one reason or another. Honestly, the last one is a stretch at this particular moment but i am acutely aware of how lucky i am to have this little one and I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.
The morning came, coffee was had and nap time arrived. Bam went to sleep and I stumbled into my room and lay my head down. If there was ever a time to listen to the advice “sleep when the baby sleeps” this was it. As I struggled to convince myself to sleep on the caffeine high of the early morning, still my mind of all the things I felt guilty that I wasn’t doing and drift off to sleep I hear the familiar sound of ole’ Isaac standing at the end of he cot banging his hands on the bars. 40 mins had passed, it took me that long to nod off and I wish I’d never attempted it. It’s like going on a diet and sitting in front of a jam donut.
We play and play and cry and play for the next couple of hours, eating solids is off the cards because he is so beside himself with tiredness he can’t sit still. Nap time arrives again.
***Spoiler alert, he doesn’t sleep.***
After about twenty mins he is crying and clearly not sleeping. I call Mylo needing to vent because I am about to lose it, like legit Britney circa 2007 style. My brother in law and fellow community member Michael comes up the stairs after hearing Isaac making noise, took one look at me, picked up Isaac and insisted that I walk back to my bedroom and don’t come out until I’ve slept. Without any level of resistance or words in response I turn and walk off. It was time to accept help. I knew he had his own things to do, I knew he didn’t have a super child friendly environment to work with, I knew he had other plans for the afternoon and none of it mattered because I needed help and needed to put my pride aside and accept it.
I slept for an hour and a half and it was the most restful sleep I think I’ve ever had. I don’t know if it was because I was that tired or if it was because I knew that I would not be woken from this slumber by THAT sound. Whatever… I felt like a new woman, ready to start a “health and fitness regime” new woman, a “maybe she’s born with it” new woman and so I was able to be a mum again, a decent one and one that didn’t feel drunk tired.
Ps – Michael had to deal with a number two that afternoon and break his 10 year streak of no number twos. (Good boy Bam!)