It has been 11 months. Roughly 330 days and nights. I have logged a little over 1,350 hours of sleep in the last 11 months. An average of 4-5 hours of interrupted sleep a night. Sometimes less. Never more.
I am running on empty. I am exhausted. Running on fumes.
Yesterday was another epic of day of no napping. I lie…there was a thirty minute nap around 8:30 am. That was it. After waking up before sunrise. Waking up in the 5 am hour. There was one thirty minute nap. The nap wasn’t taken by me though. It was taken by my kid, the one that doesn’t sleep.
He doesn’t sleep at night. For the past 11 months, he has woken every 2-3 hours at night. Sometimes every hour. He has a habit of waking up at 4 am and not going back to sleep. Sometimes 5 am. Science Guy and I counted the amount of times he has actually slept any consecutive number of hours greater than 3. The conclusion….about 6 times…..6 times in the past 11 months.
Sleepless nights are compounded by sleepless days sometimes. Those are the days that I run on empty. I run on fumes. I feel like I have nothing left. I sometimes secretly wish that I could drop him off at daycare and someone else could handle him for a little bit. I could just have some quiet time. A minute by myself. A moment to think. Some time to regroup. Maybe even a nap.
Then, I look at my sweet baby and he fills my love tank up. The tank is full. The battery is recharged. I can keep moving.