I used to love to sleep. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you how much I treasured sleep. Poor Jeff — every night when I would crawl into bed, I would remark that it was my most favorite part of the day and then say something like “sweet, sweet sleep.”
I still love to sleep. But now I don’t get nearly as much.
When I was pregnant, I worried about how I would adjust to changes to my sleeping schedule. And, I had reason to worry because the changes were indeed drastic! Between labor and being alone in a hospital room with a new baby, I started off my motherhood adventure with a three-night sleep deficit. It was rough.
But, I was so happy. I actually remarked to someone during that time that I was “blissfully exhausted.”
Adele was not a good sleeper for the first — no joke — six or seven months of her life. I celebrated at 12 weeks when she slept for five solid hours for the first time. And, it’s only been in the past week (no kidding) that she has started sleeping completely through the night.
So, my sleep that I so cherished has been a bit scarce. And you know what? I barely care.
Motherhood is the craziest thing. So many things that were so important to me just aren’t anymore. They’ve been bumped off the list by the sweetest, snuggliest baby girl. Now my weekend mornings start at 6 a.m., just like my workday mornings. And for the most part it’s fine. Don’t get me wrong — I wish she would understand that she could stay snuggled in her crib for an extra hour or two on Saturdays. And there are times when I ask Jeff to get up with her if I’ve been up with her a few times throughout the night.
I still love to sleep, I do, but I love Adele more. She’s not always going to want to snuggle with me in the morning. She’s not always going to wear footy jammies and have sticky-uppy hair. She’s not always going to sit in her highchair, bang on her tray, and yell “ma-ma-ma-ma” while I get her breakfast ready. I have to relish these moments while they last.