Week 24: Day 2

It has been 24 weeks and 2 days since my last full night of deep sleep.

I don’t mind it, for the most part.  Fatigue used to make us all very punchy, and I was frankly quite worried about how I would handle the transition from sleeplessness being a temporary condition to a permanent state.  In days long past, at least we could comfort ourselves with the fact that the weekend was approaching.  Or coming straight home from work and going right to bed.  Luxurious rainy Sundays when we didn’t get dressed except to walk the dog and buy a newspaper.  Sleep begat sleep.  It was an addiction of sorts.

I’m so proud to report that our marriage is not suffering in the slightest, despite the varying degrees of sleep deprivation going on here.  There have been a few harsh words, snaps to “turn off that light!” and “SHH,” but overall, its a battle we’re all fighting together.  Our adversary is this little 17 pound boy, who hasn’t the slightest idea in the world the change he has brought.  He lives in every moment as fully the Buddhas strive for, and truly does not think about anything except what is directly before him.  Happy, hungry, sleepy, lonely, and lovey are, I believe, the extent of his experiences in the world.  He is pure truth, and I wish responsible adult lives were permissive of this kind of lifestyle.  But we have to worry about our things: the weather, the traffic, the dentist, the laundry, all the books we haven’t had time to read yet…

Before I digress much further, I want to write about my weekend reflections.  Husband came with me on a very spontaneous trip to Maine.  He was “happy to come” and I happily sat in the passenger seat as he drove.  Much less than a year ago, I used to pout when I had to do the dishes, walk the dog in the rain, have to be the one to get out of bed to shut the light.  I don’t complain about those things anymore, (there’s not time) because I grew up.  I recognize that I’m the adult and there are simply activities in this world that must be done in order for life to roll on how we want it.  I like a clean kitchen, so I respect the process of getting it to that state.  I used to lecture my husband about proper produce storage and the necessity of stacking the good china separately from the everyday plates.  Suddenly, 24 weeks and 2 days ago, all those stuffy details of life faded into the background noise where they belong.  Or, maybe I’ve just been too tired to care.  Either way, its working for us.  We’re in it together, and we both know that neither of us needs to be stretched any thinner than we already are.  So I ignore husband’s inability to line his shoes up by the door, and he drives me on last minute trips to visit my mother.  Its this glorious unspoken agreement to make life easier in any way possible, and its working!  Now if only we could communicate this to the baby…

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