The first night we brought Mason home from the hospital, we set alarms to wake us up every two or three hours so I could feed him. We figured he'd be sound asleep and if we didn't wake him up, he'd starve.
We never had a chance to hear that first alarm go off... and I don't think I've slept for longer than two hours at a time since the night before he was born. Some nights, it's not too bad. He'll wake up, eat for ten or fifteen minutes, and go back to sleep without more than a few little grunts. Then there are the nights that I dread.. the ones where he eats for hours and refuses to go back to sleep no matter what I try. After an hour or two, I'll get him to fall asleep in my arms, but the second his little back touches his bassinet he's screaming again as if putting him in his own bed was the worst thing I could have ever done to him. Usually I'll just hold him and try to sleep sitting up. Sometimes we'll just stay up and cry together.
I remember when waking up for class at eight (or even work at eleven!) was almost impossible... and I miss my sleep. A lot. But I don't miss life without Mason. Yeah, he keeps me up all night and sometimes he pees on me when I take off his diaper, but I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
Who needs sleep, anyways?
No comments:
Post a Comment