I had a bad mom day after a bad night. Actually, it feels like I’ve been having had mom weeks. This chronic sleeplessness is wearing me down, and sometimes it feels so hopeless, and I feel so alone single parenting when my husband is gone overnight. I hate that feeling.
I’m not done fighting through the jungle to find solutions that work and I’m comfortable with for my girl, but sometimes I get angry and need a break. This morning the bags under my eyes sagged low as my girl wailed for me, and I muttered, “Just leave me alone!” Then the mom shame hit after picking her up rougher than necessary, but can I catch a break after being kept up all hours of the night and averaging four interrupted hours of sleep a night?
I feel like I can’t reach out for support and solidarity because I don’t want to hear condescending remarks like, “It you would sleep train, you wouldn’t be tired.” I feel like I can’t let on how brutal this season of life is because I know so many people struggling with infertility, and “I should be thankful.” This is the hardest long term commitment I have ever experienced in my entire life. What I want is to know that I’m doing a good job, that I’m an amazing mom, that my daughter will know my love.
The freezer quit, the dryer is on its last leg, and the car and truck were both in the garage this month, (twice) totalling in over $2000 in auto bills. I have poison ivy on my arms, legs, and face from working outside. I have been hanging on to a nasty sickness for over a month with no end in sight. It started with that sore throat on our work trip, turned to a cough and cold, nearly disappeared then came back with a vengeance. So between hacking and nose blowing and essential oils and no sleep and mountains of projects calling my name, not to mention just the normal cooking, cleaning, and 24/7 baby care, I got pretty depressed this week. The grass is tall again and I haven’t figured out how to comfortably mow it without a babysitter, boxes still fill the guest room and closet (I can’t find what I need, but don’t want to unpack until I find and organize space) trim remains unpainted, and flower beds remain overgrown and full of weeds. Also, my husbands work schedule is crazy, so when he’s home we just want some time to crash and relax, so work at home is a slow process.
I have these high ideals for surprising my hardworking man with completed projects to ease his load, but with chronic sleep deprivation, I’m lucky to just keep myself and our daughter alive and well and have plenty of leftovers waiting in the fridge when he gets back so I don’t have to spend precious time cooking then.
Just now, I rubbed the little body of my wailing baby who won’t settle and is uncomfortable from teething and prayed for help. It’s already a long night. My sister asked me earlier today if I feel like Job. I’m not at his level of calamity yet, but I share the sentiment to a smaller degree.
If it sounds like complaining, hang in there. Every good story has a backdrop. Like I said, I know probably 90% of what I’m going through is physical. But eveything is spiritual because God is here.
So while I know sleep will fix so much and help my body recover, I need supernatural intervention for my mind and spirit. This morning, I turned on worship music before breakfast and apologized to my daughter for getting angry. I worshipped, and asked God to come, and she swayed her little body back and forth to the sound.
When I am bouncing her to sleep, sometimes I break out in song, yes, to sooth her into slumber, but more for me and for the environment I carry around me in my home. The other night, this playlist came out of me, and I rather prefer these inviting songs to Jesus over silly lullabies.
Forever by Brian Johnson and Kari Jobe
No Longer Slaves by Jonathan and Melissa Hesler
Angels- Brian Johnson
Come Out of Hiding- Steffany Gretzinger
Great Are You Lord- All Sons and Daughters
There’s calling angels to worship with us, letting go of fear and surrender to intimacy and true safety, inviting of Jesus who gives it all for me forever. That’s all I need. Jesus holds my hand and grafts me to Him, sewing my temporary life with eternal threads. Everything is spiritual because God is here, and this moment has value.