For weeks now, my baby has been doing an excellent job of sleeping. She'll sleep in five or six hour blocks at night. Generally speaking, we only have to get up once in the wee hours. And since she is breastfed, I don't mind her getting up for a snack if she wants. My baby is now sleeping.
But I'm not. The insomnia is back with a vengeance. There are not many pluses to pregnancy, in my opinion. But at least while pregnant I slept like a baby. Or, uh. . . a rock? A koala?* Whatever the euphemism, I slept well. And I'm not anymore.
I find it infinitely more difficult not sleeping when I have Mariah to take care of. She requires care regardless of how much I want to sit in one spot and refuse to move. She also expects me to be entertaining. Exhausted and entertaining don't mix well. In the 12 or so years that I've been dealing with serious insomnia, I have never found anything that helps. But the issue is now more crucial than ever. Not that medicating has ever worked, but I can't even give it a try now since I'm nursing. I don't expect the natural remedies like warm milk and such to do anything more than it ever did. Maybe if someone gave me a million dollars. Maybe that would shut my brain down enough for me to sleep.
But I don't expect that to happen, and I'm desperate for sleep. We are all desperate for me to have sleep.