The Real Deal on Exhaustion
Maybe you've pulled an all-nighter in school, staring bleary-eyed at a
laptop and hitting the word count button every 2 minutes. Or perhaps
you've worked a 10 hour shift at the corner store, the box factory, the
coffee shop, trying to earn a little scratch for the weekend mall trip.
You therefore think you know exhaustion. But let me tell you: until you
have a newborn, the only thing you know is exhaustion's wimpy second
cousin, fatigue. Functioning as an over-tired zombie hits a whole new
level when you're a brand new parent.
I have felt nauseated from the exhaustion. I've felt giddy and angry by turn. I have cried inconsolably because it's 4 a.m., she's feeding for the 12th time in 24 hours, and on top of feeling like a dairy cow, I haven't slept a wink all day.
When I was pregnant, my hubby and I were sick of hearing how tired we were going to be. How cliche. Oh, we thought we were aware of the impending sleeplessness; we thought we knew what we were in for. But no...in theory is one thing. In practice is a foggy mess of frustrated tears, aimless wandering and sitcom-worthy forgetfulness.
It's fascinating and slightly alarming how well your body adapts to so little sleep. In the first few weeks, there were days I got two, maybe four, hours of rest but it was broken into random chunks of naps whenever possible. Combine sleep deprivation with some whacked out hormonal changes, and you have one emotionally labile mama, teetering on a hair trigger - which translates to a freaked out papa, desperately wanting to help but tiptoeing on Faberge eggshells in order to accomplish this.
So rookie mamas like me, please know: sleep, dreams, and restfulness will be total strangers to you in the early days. When given the opportunity, you will simply drop off into a strange stupor that is simultaneously deep but also allows you to be easily awakened (say by the shrill cries of your munchkin). That being said, listen to the advice circling the web: sleep when she sleeps. Forget what convention and the clock have to say, just close your eyes when she does. The dishes won't get any dirtier, the bathroom will always need cleaning, and laundry can wait a few hours. If 30, 40, or God-love-you 60 minutes of rest presents itself, TAKE IT! You may cry fewer tears and yell at a lesser volume because of it.
I have felt nauseated from the exhaustion. I've felt giddy and angry by turn. I have cried inconsolably because it's 4 a.m., she's feeding for the 12th time in 24 hours, and on top of feeling like a dairy cow, I haven't slept a wink all day.
When I was pregnant, my hubby and I were sick of hearing how tired we were going to be. How cliche. Oh, we thought we were aware of the impending sleeplessness; we thought we knew what we were in for. But no...in theory is one thing. In practice is a foggy mess of frustrated tears, aimless wandering and sitcom-worthy forgetfulness.
It's fascinating and slightly alarming how well your body adapts to so little sleep. In the first few weeks, there were days I got two, maybe four, hours of rest but it was broken into random chunks of naps whenever possible. Combine sleep deprivation with some whacked out hormonal changes, and you have one emotionally labile mama, teetering on a hair trigger - which translates to a freaked out papa, desperately wanting to help but tiptoeing on Faberge eggshells in order to accomplish this.
So rookie mamas like me, please know: sleep, dreams, and restfulness will be total strangers to you in the early days. When given the opportunity, you will simply drop off into a strange stupor that is simultaneously deep but also allows you to be easily awakened (say by the shrill cries of your munchkin). That being said, listen to the advice circling the web: sleep when she sleeps. Forget what convention and the clock have to say, just close your eyes when she does. The dishes won't get any dirtier, the bathroom will always need cleaning, and laundry can wait a few hours. If 30, 40, or God-love-you 60 minutes of rest presents itself, TAKE IT! You may cry fewer tears and yell at a lesser volume because of it.
Comments
Post a Comment