Yesterday was a tough day.
Emma is now two years old and woke around 9 times in the night.
Just wailing because it’s 4am and she thinks it’s time to get up
I’ve realised that over the past year, that sluggish feeling of waking up to another night’s broken sleep has become the norm. Those feelings of hope that she might sleep through are long gone and what is left is not pretty. It’s made my positive nature completely disappear. It’s made me near unrecognisable and a person that I don’t like at all. I always promised myself that no matter how hard it got, it wouldn’t become a competition between my other half and I as to who is doing the most…not every time, but sometimes, that’s exactly where we are.
I hate that some days feel relentless, when I know these days with Emma will not last forever. I kick myself numerous times a day when she says something sweet and adorable because moments before I had sighed to myself when she asked to do another puzzle with me. Some days feel like Groundhog Day and I can’t escape this feeling of ‘this is it’. This morning I asked Emma if she’s okay and she said “yes mummy, always”, which made me want to cry a little. She’s okay, it’s just me who isn’t.
But yesterday I saw my anger. I saw that I can uncontrollably become someone I don’t recognise and it scared me. I take things out on those around me, I know now I should have just said something, anything, but instead I get irritated and annoyed at everything. I need to delegate but I find that almost impossible. From the moment Emma wakes up, my mind goes into over-drive with changing her nappy, brushing her teeth, finding her clothes to wear (locate the sparkly tops for the win), try to find socks that aren’t odd ones, feed her, play with her, try again to feed her because she said no the first time round.
This is the first time I’ve admitted to myself that I feel like this because I actually have the most supportive partner. He’s there for me always and would do anything to help. I feel bad even admitting it and am not ashamed to say that over the past day, I’ve questioned whether there might be something wrong with me. Why do I feel so overwhelmed if I actually do have the help? Or is it just that sleep deprivation over this period of time takes its toll and is slowly making me go crazy?
I know that people will tell me that it will get easier and not to be too hard on myself. That’s probably what I would tell a friend if she was sat here saying the same things to me. I suppose what I’ve realised is that even when the newborn haze has disappeared ever so slightly and you’ve got a delightful toddler who sadly doesn’t seem too keen on napping anymore, it will be a bit of a struggle at times. There will be days when it just seems so much tougher than the last.
Yesterday I didn’t recognise myself but today is a new and better day.
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