The Elusive Sleep

Everyone tells you when you're pregnant... "Get your sleep now, you'll need it." What they don't remember is:

1. Sleep can't be stored and saved like money or weight, and

2. There's not a whole lot of sleeping going on the last few months of pregnancy anyway...

I look back on my college days and giggle at the fact that my 8 am class was just soooooo early and I MUST nap after otherwise I "won't be able to function!!" (We'd also turn off the phone so we wouldn't be disturbed... seriously?!)

Looking back on my life B.J. (that's "before Joey" if you didn't catch that...) I laugh at my "need" for sleep. I could nap and nap and nap away and still get a full eight at night. I was sleeping my life away!

These days, I'm up at midnight, two, four, and sometimes six am (although that's usually Brett's shift), and have no problem having a full productive day afterwards. Now... granted, I'm not working full time like I used to (one month to go if you were counting... bah) and I don't have to be "on" in a job all day. But I find that no matter how little sleep I get, I find myself just moving past whatever sleepiness I feel and get through it.

Everyone tells me that these days don't last long, and that Joey will be a good little sleeper soon enough, and to just "hang in there." Honestly, I don't wish the time away for a minute. I absolutely love the age Joey's at, I could get 1 minute of sleep each night and I think I would still feel this way.

"Sleep when the baby sleeps..." I get this a lot. It's amazing because when Joey does sleep during the day, I find myself just holding him or staring at him, and then all of a sudden an hour has passed... I probably should take the advice, but I just can't. I could stare and stare at that little man of mine for hours on end. I'd rather do this than waste another moment of my life sleeping. I just love him that much.

My favorite time is actually at two am when I've rocked him and nursed him and I get this what we call newborn "boob coma" smile through his pacifier. I find myself with tears streaming down my face that I am possibly the luckiest person awake at two am on the planet. I figure this is what three miscarriages has taught me about life. Looking back I find I know exactly why Brett and I went through what we did to get the baby of our dreams. This kid can't phase me. No matter how hard he's screaming, what I do to sooth him that doesn't work, or how colicky he gets, the kid cannot break through my skin. We know heartbreak. We know pain. The sound of a baby crying, our baby crying, is not pain. It's pure bliss.

So here I am... living for each day, watching my baby sleep, and feeling so totally blessed that the baby in my arms is all ours.

I wouldn't trade it for all the sleep and rest in the world.