When reminded of that “extra hour” of sleep the end of Daylight Savings time brings, most new parents roll their eyes and do a collective “yeah right!”  I originally thought my post today would lament the fact that my 9 month old doesn’t understand the concept of Daylight Savings Time and wouldn’t allow us that blessed “extra hour” of sleep. But, guess what? He did. Thank you Ben! That really means a lot. Really. I’m serious. Thank you. Let’s start looking now for your much deserved car for your 16th birthday.

When I was pregnant I don’t know how many times I heard “Sleep while you still can!” as I waddled down the halls of the Star Tribune. It was almost always said with a sing-songy, “ha ha! I know something you don’t” lilt in the voice. I took each and every person up on that sage piece of advice. I slept soundly and savored each minute without one ounce of guilt. I was growing another human being afterall, it takes a lot out of a gal.  My couch seemed to inhale me deep into it’s cushions for hours on end. I spiralled off far into a starry slumber and loved every minute of it. 

Fast forward to our first night home with the baby. No one tells you that you just Do. Not. Sleep. the first night home. I remember staying up rocking Ben and finally watching the brittle, icy, grey January sunrise. I sat there thinking and truly believing, “I am never going to sleep again.”  

I became increasingly jealous of the people in those “Lunesta” sleep aid commercials. Look at them, they are so happy smiling and sleeping on their fluffy pillows while that big green moth flits around their room sprinkling sleeping powder on them. The announcer voice over then states “side effect: may cause drowsiness.”  I so wanted a big green moth to fly around my room too.

I started to read every chapter in every book about how to get your baby to sleep, how to get his days and night’s switched and it always seemed the authors manage to throw in “well, you know, sleep deprivation was widely used as a form of torture in WWII.” I don’t think that you can compare a labor of love to what the POW’s went through but on a certain level, I could definately empathize. What secrets would I tell for a few extra hours of sleep. Hmmm.

Sleep. It remained elusive. Eventually I developed a “lack of sleep callous”  Kind of like breaking in a new pair sandals in the summer. It didn’t hurt as much after I got used to it for awhile. I could do more on less sleep and more coffee. Yes I looked and acted a bit owly during the day, but I became fully functional. Then again there was the time I put the ice cream in the cupboard and the crackers in the freezer…

I should also mention, I wasn’t in this sleep deprivation mode alone. My husband and I were in this together. Since I was nursing, there is only so much a daddy can do, but Peter always would get up and bring Ben to me to take a few knocks, and take him back to bed when he was done. This act alone has made me fall in love with him again on a whole new level.

Then eventually it happens, you wake up one morning, what’s wrong!? I feel well-rested, dare I say perky? Look at the clock, he slept through the night! And then it happens again, and again! Hallelujah! My dark circles are no longer permanent. I can now operate heavy machinery!

But I realize that sleep will never be the same. One ear is now acutely receptive to each cough, each squeak, and sigh.  I’m sure this will carry on well into the teenage years, one ear waiting for him to walk in the door. I know already that I wouldn’t trade one wink of sleep for the moments I’ve had holding my little guy snuggled up in his fleecey footie pajamas and lightly breathing Cheerio breath on my cheek.

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This entry was posted on Sunday, October 29th, 2006 at 1:55 pm and is filed under Family Life, Main, Pregnancy. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.