Sleep Deprivation {It happens to the best of us}

The little one has been stirring up some trouble in the bedroom as of late.

He will give me some rest every 4th night or so, but other than that, I spend my nights with him at my breast, screaming, flailing, arms punching my chest, little feet kicking my stomach.

What am I doing wrong? What is going on? I can't take this...

I stare at him. I stare at the clock. I change his diaper. I strip off his clothes. I rearrange our bodies and try to make everyone more comfortable. I sigh loudly. I stroke his face. I speak to him in whispers because somehow my husband's deep breaths beside me let me know that he is sleeping though this madness.

Why are you crying, child? Why can't you just tell me what to do? I'll do anything, I swear. The others slept through the night by now. Why do you cry so much?


I know it will pass. These sleepless nights are just another tiny, miniscule little part of life that passes us by before we even know what has happened.. then, he'll be another 5 year old, another 8 year old, looking way too big as I pull their blankets up around their sleeping bodies before I go to my own bed.
But at this moment, I feel helpless. I feel alone. I feel like the only person in the world who is suppose to make you stop crying and comfort you and for some reason, I cannot.

I love you. I love you. I'm not angry, just sad. Just really, really sad.


Sooner or later his eyes close. whether he wanted milk and it wasn't coming fast enough, or whether he wanted his clothes off, or whether he wanted to be tucked in the crook of my arm just so. I look at him for a few minutes before I drift off as well, and for that moment, all the frustration and sadness fades away and all it is, is me and my child and I am grateful for this moment that is ours, despite everything.

And somehow, everything is right in the world.