There is a lot to be petrified about when you’re getting ready to give birth and become a parent. Hemorrhages, depression, exhaustion, psychologically ruining a small, innocent human being: pick your damage! Yes, I jest, but all those are valid fears to face when preparing for parenthood. But for me, the biggest fear was much more mundane: I was most scared of not sleeping. I know, I know: sleep is the most basic casualty when it comes to becoming a parent. Everyone knows you just never sleep when the presence of a squalling, demanding yet adorable wee one arrives in
In Which I Give Myself a Guilt Trip, Can’t Sleep and Come to Some Epiphanies About Compassion, Productivity and Insomnia I’ve been sleeping not so great lately. I do this weird thing where I collapse in my bed at the end of the day because I’m super tired, and I just want to close my eyes and pass out. But my mind races, still in go-go-go daytime mode even though I’m supposed to enter into chill zone. And yet I can’t stop my brain. Did I edit this piece of writing? Did I email So-and-So back? Did I get XY
I couldn’t sleep last Sunday night. I had no caffeine during the day, and generally everything felt fine when I went to bed at 11PM, the remnants of a thunderstorm rumbling further in the distance as the cool air streamed through my bedroom windows. Post-thunderstorm cool nights are my favorite sleeping weather, and I drifted off to sleep comfortably. But I woke up at 3AM, feeling hot and stuffy and distinctly uncomfortable. The air wasn’t moving at all anymore, so I put on the fan and went back to sleep. Only…I couldn’t fall back asleep. I had no idea why.
I’ve written about this elsewhere and tweeted about it, but my insomnia came back with a vengeance these past few weeks, and it has been rough. Many long-time readers know that I’ve struggled with insomnia for much of my life. I’m a night owl by temperament and have even “made insomnia work” for me at points in my life, when I had more reserves of energy to compensate. (Not sleeping = superproductive, at when I was 25.) But in grad school, my insomnia got ridiculous — I’d finally fall sleep by 6 or 7 a.m., only to wake up 4-5