Me, I do, I do. But, I'm not getting it. Well, not entirely true. I'm probably getting five hours a night. I'm a sleeper, I love my sleep, I love at least nine hours of uninterrupted sleep. I know I will have them again, but I miss them so badly. I'm jealous of my two year old and her eleven hours nights of blissful slumber. I haven;t had a full night's sleep for over three months and my body feels like it is slowly disintegrating. The days feel like I'm wearing a resistance parachute that is not helping me lose the baby fat. But, this week, it feels even worse, like my normal has been reduced 20%. I'm 80% of myself. Sleep, please come back soon.
The cause of this is our little man. He sleeps beautifully until 1.00am or 2.00am and then is up every hour. Every hour, we know we are up shushing, rocking, repacifing, crying (me alongside the little man). Our nights have been cut in half. We are trying all kinds of sleep tactics. He is currently super swadddled (his arms anchored with a scarf and swaddle blanket one top). We are dropping the dream feed tonight. I'm sleeping with him, while Brent sleeps in the spare room. No wonder having children destroy marriages. This will obviously, not last forever. Perspective is good, but sleep would be even better.
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