Posted February 26, 2010 by
Some days are harder than others.
I meant to post a blog today about all the great food we ate in NOLA (and I still intend to soon), but I just didn't get it together in time to do so.
Greg went out last night with a friend, which is no longer a big deal since Veronica goes down so easily each night at 7, leaving the evenings free. And sure, I could have spent my time working on just such a blog post, but I was tired. It had been a busy week with projects and stresses and anticipation, work meetings and unexpected clients, and general catching up after our trip.
So, instead of being productive last night I sat on the couch and watched three episodes of The Bachelor on Hulu. Shameful, I know. But sometimes those kind of nights are necessary, and since having a kid it's extremely rare that I ever let myself indulge in such wasteful behavior.
By 9pm I was exhausted, sad but true, and I got in bed to read. It was one of those nights that I've had a lot since Veronica was born — the kind where I'm so tired that all I can focus on is how little sleep I'm bound to get. I knew that she'd be waking up around 11 or 12 to nurse and that Greg would be coming home around 10 or 11 and that would wake me up as well. Yet, there it was 9:30 and all I wanted to do was go to sleep for uninterrupted hours.
I did indeed fall asleep, but woke up 20 minutes later when Greg came home, which did nothing but serve to stress me out. By the time he was settled and in bed I was wide awake again, lying in the dark with my eyes open trying my best to relax, to breathe, to just FALL ASLEEP. But all I could think about was how Veronica was bound to wake up the second I drifted off, and before I knew it my heart was pounding and I was on the verge of tears.
And then I was sitting up in bed, in tears.
I've had a lot of these nights since she was born and I hate them. In my late teens and early twenties, surrounding the deaths of my parents, I was an anxious mess most of the time. But in the last several years, before having a baby, I'd become a very relaxed person. It took a lot of work, but I'd finally begun to let go, to enjoy my life, to be present, to feel care free.
But ever since Veronica was born there's been a coil inside of me, one that winds tighter and tighter some days, until I end up exactly where I was last night.
As I broke down crying in bed, all I could think about was how much I wanted to call my mom. I miss my parents so much. I miss the feeling of someone to really lean on, of someone who is invested in my well being, of someone to give me advice and support.
I pulled my knees to my chest last night and wept, feeling like a little girl. I don't want to be parentless anymore, I thought.
But now it's morning and I'm sitting at the dining room table with Veronica eating cheerios in her high chair beside me, and it's a new day. I did indeed get some sleep and now the sun is out and life is moving forward just like it always does.
Do you ever have these nights? Any tips for falling asleep? How do you cope with anxiety? Are you a parent? If so, have you become more anxious since having kids?