Sleep

Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast,--"

--Macbeth, Act 2, Scene 2

Yesterday was my six week postpartum appointment with my midwife. "After I had
my son, I scrapped my whole postpartum 'spiel' and just ask about sleep." I laid it
on her. "Here's what we know about sleep," she said, "it's not the amount of sleep--
it's uninterrupted sleep that counts." Last night, my blessed mother-in-law arrived.
We implemented a new sleep schedule for MSH and I (not for baby,) with MSH
taking 8pm - 12am and 5 am - 9 am. In practice I didn't sleep at all those times.
I went to bed at 10pm, after pumping to provide MSH with the breastmilk for the
babe. I couldn't fall asleep right away. It has been weeks since I went "to bed"
before midnight and as tired as I was, I couldn't wind down right away. But I lay
there and relaxed, and MSH turned on the "sleep" relaxation music for me, and I
thought happy thoughts. I thought how lucky my son is to have cousins around his
age. I thought how much fun it will be in the spring to go with him to the park. I
felt loved and supported. And sometime after 11pm, when I heard someone
preparing to feed the babe, I fell asleep. (I did NOT wake up when MSH came to
bed.) I woke up to the baby monitor at 3:15am, even though it was on MSH's side
of the bed, even though my son wasn't yet crying, just making awake noises. I got
out of bed. And I thought, "OK, time to feed my son."

I did not think: "OH GOD THIS IS AWFUL I WANT TO CRAWL BACK IN BED
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" I did not think, over and over again, as I do usually:
"brutalbrutalbrutalbrutalthisissof%*@ingbrutalbrutalbrutal."

I changed his diaper (disposable chlorine-free for better absorption and longer
nighttime sleeping) and fed him for 25 minutes and he went to sleep. I waited
until he was deeply asleep and put him in his crib. I didn't wrap him up very much
because I didn't really want to wake him up. Then knowing the next feed would
probably be MSH, I stayed up and pumped. An hour after he'd gone to sleep initially,
the wee lad woke up. I thought: "Oh, that's odd. I'd better go see what he wants."

I did not think: "OH CHRIST YOU HAVE GOT TO BE F@#%ING KIDDING ME HOW CAN
HE BE AWAKE, HOW?!?!? I WON'T GET ANY SLEEP, WAAAAAH!!"

So I changed his diaper. I think he may have woken up because he was cold, but just
in case he'd fallen asleep the first time when he was still hungry, I fed him again.
He slept until 7:45am. Bless his wee head.

I didn't actually get to sleep until 6 Am, so I was up for three hours in the middle of
the night, but even so, when I woke up at 7:45, I thought: "I could have my mother-in-
law feed him, and sleep some more, but if I get up now and feed the babe, my mother-
in-law can watch him while I go to a yoga class." (The midwife gave me the green
light for exercise yesterday.)

So I *didn't* go back to sleep even though I easily could have. I fed, I pumped, and off
I went to the first hot yoga class I've been to in four or five months.

It was amazing. Very challenging, but I was able to do more of the poses than I thought--
only rested out three. The sun was pouring in the windows, I watched my eyes in the
mirror, I tried to follow my breath, I reveled in every posture. My shoulders visibly
lowered. My muscles burned as lactic acid poured out. I did an extra backbend. It. Was.
Awesome.

Then I came home, and pumped, and watched my son burble and coo and punch and kick.
I fixed a sandwich. I feel like myself.

So to repeat: Four hours of continuous sleep, plus sunshine, plus hot yoga = very good
mental state. I think I'll take a nap.