I can’t sleep. Again. Sometimes I take Gravol before bed to help me get drowsy. Yes, I know about Melatonin. Warm milk. Red wine. I know. But I can’t sleep. I feel like a baby caught in a bad routine. All I can think of that might help me would be to wake up very early in the mornings. Then maybe I could fall asleep at a decent time. But I don’t have the nerve to wake myself up earlier than necessary. So I’ll whine on here instead. I was trying to remember the last time I slept well. Right. It was when I was pregnant, and when Deks was a newborn.
I remember what it was like when Dekker was new. He never slept in our bed. I had planned to be fairly strict that he would sleep in his own room right off the hop. But he was born with so much crud in his lungs that he’s wake up gagging and choking. We’d have to whip out of bed, turn him on his tummy and smack his back until he puked up a solid amount of mucous. It was awesome. Oh, if type could produce tone. Anyway, I was terrified of him on that level. So he slept in a cradle in our room.
We figured he would just say in our room until we were comfortable with him leaving. He stayed until he survived his first shots, and then we moved him into his crib. Frankly, we all slept better in separate rooms and continue to do so.
Sometimes though, I wish I knew what it was like to sleep with baby in my bed. Some mornings, when Dekker would start crying a little earlier than we were ready for, we would go get him from his cradle and bring him to our bed. We’d lay him between our pillows and just watch him fall back to sleep. There is definitely something safe about cuddles, isn’t there? It never lasted too long. He was a hungry, hungry hippo back then and would wait for no one. Not that he doesn’t eat like a horse now, but he trusts us to feed him when it’s time. He rarely fusses for food. But that is besides the point.
Tonight, I would love to lay him down on my chest and just feel him breathe. That could be my ticket to sleep any night. Or, I can just reminisce. 