Exhaustion

I keep going back and forth on what I want to call baby girl on the blog. And whether it really even matters since in some ways privacy seems to be becoming a thing of the past. Ah, a conundrum for another day. Today I call her Chickadee.

I know a lot of people that sleep/slept with their baby in their bed, and in many ways it seems like a good idea. Ease of night time feedings, midnight comforting, and two a.m. breathing checks, to name a few. I'm really glad that it has worked well for them, but I knew even before Chickadee was born that it wouldn't work for me. As I contemplated all the times that Brad put his pillow on top of my face to sleep and I have wrapped myself so tightly in my sheets that I've had to ask for help to get out of bed, I realized that the family bed would not work out for us and the health of our child.

That is why on the nights when Chickadee decides to have a party all night long instead of sleeping (seriously girl, you got one job), I often end up sleeping on the floor next to her crib. At some point, I am just too tired to walk back and forth from my room to hers and I grab a bunch of blankets from the basket underneath her crib and crash. Keep in mind that these are baby-sized blankets so one for my right leg, one for my left leg, one for my upper body, and three for my pillow.

Several weeks ago, I had a dream that I could not finish running a marathon because my hip was hurting too much. Very confused, mostly because I prefer the phrase "donut run" to "running a marathon," I woke up to discover that my hip was hurting because I had been sleeping on the floor all night. All night besides the times I fell asleep draped over the side of the crib holding Chickadee's hand or patting her stomach.

Last Sunday night was even worse because at midnight I woke up because Brad was shaking so hard it was making our entire bed quiver. I took his temperature (fever and chills), threw some Ibuprofen at him, and abandoned him to sleep on the couch. Then Chickadee kept waking up so I slept on her floor for a little while, then Brad woke up and needed help to get to the bathroom, so I fell asleep in our bed for a little while again, then he was shaking too much and I moved to the couch, then Chickadee woke up and I moved to her floor, and so on and so forth. I believe the vicious pattern ended with me in bed, but I don't even remember. The rest of the day was a blur.

So, dear husband and baby, I love you so. But I am too exhausted to make my mouth open and move to say those words today. Maybe after a nap. Or two.

And as a thank you for getting through all of that rambling, a picture of Chickadee in her Elvis pj's. Thank you, Thank you very much.