This is one of a number of posts saved in drafts. I haven’t posted them because I’m not sure they really make any sense.
When L and K were small babies,they kept an all night vigil in which at least one was awake at any time. I breast fed both of them and they rejected bottles, so when that middle of the night call came, there was no escape. I learned there was no point going to sleep as the first call would come around midnight and each alternate cry would come about ten to fifteen minutes after I had laid the caller’s twin sister back to sleep. There would be an hour or two when I would sleep, but that was it and each morning, I would get us all up, L,K and their lively toddler brother and I would wonder how on earth I could get through the day. But I did.
I feel like that now. I am having so little sleep. I go to bed and sleep just doesn’t happen. I keep lying there, then getting up to go to the loo, then turning again and again. I see the clock, first 1am, then 2am, then 3am and I wonder if this is to be a totally sleepless night. I look at the ceiling and try and think of a peaceful scenario that will help me sleep. I imagine handing in my notice at work, being able to say to the gaggle of people that every day whisper and sneer at me, that I hear what they say and I am leaving. I am done.
4am comes and I wonder if I should get up. I am tired to the point of hallucinations, but sleep still doesn’t happen. I wonder if I should go to work. Perhaps that would stop the sniping, being at my desk at 6. But around 5, I start to sleep and before I know it the 6.30 alarm wakes me up. The teasmade delivers tea. The cats assemble and another day starts, every fibre of my being wants to avoid this new day and seek refuge in sleep. But that is not an option; it is time to get up and get on with the day.