It’s almost 3 am and my one-month-old is still fighting sleep, we’ve been battling for a good two hours, she’s been fed, burped, and has a clean diaper. I rock her and her eyes close but as soon as I put her down she cries so I have to start again. I want to cry. I’m running on empty and trying my hardest but it doesn’t seem to be enough.
Finally, after what seems like forever she settles down and falls asleep.
It’s 6 am, my husband is getting up to get ready to go to work, and because I’m a light sleeper I’m awake. I’m fatigued and hope I can get back to sleep. It takes a while but I manage it.
It’s 8 am and my son is waking up, he opens his bedroom door which makes a sound, and wakes me up. I’m bleary-eyed and tired but I know he’ll watch TV and he has everything he needs to make a sandwich so I stay in bed.
I can’t fall back asleep, I want to so badly but it’s not happening, I pick up my phone and check my notifications, I scroll through Facebook, Instagram, Reddit, and my various genealogy and social sites. The baby is squirming I know she’ll be up soon.
My son is playing a video game and he’s not winning, I can tell from his anguished screams, my nerves start to fray. It’s 10 am, I think about my life choices and how I ended up here.
Time passes and the baby is now awake and looking for food.
It’s time to get up and start our day.