I sent that text to my husband when we were in New Jersey for Farrah’s Annaprashan. He slept with Arlo in one room and I slept with Farrah in the other. While the daytimes were celebratory, the nights were the worst I’d experienced since Good Yesterday. On the night I sent this text, Farrah was awake every two hours, then awake from 3:30am until 6:00am and then up for good at 7:45am. The night before that she went to bed at 9:00pm and woke up every hour until 5am. That’s why I asked Kris to sleep with his phone. Though he might not be able to comfort her, he could support me as I comforted her and that’s how we do.
Last night Farrah fell asleep at 7:00pm then awoke at
1:45am (and stayed awake until 3:30am) then awoke at 6:30am for the day.
Blah blah black sleep. Home or away, sick or healthy, today or tomorrow, Farrah’s sleep is consistently wretched.
I remind myself that things weren’t much better when Arlo was eight months’ old and that I survived. Arlo woke up every three hours until he was 17 months’ old. Now his sleep is very smooth and has been for a good long while; stories, smooches and he sleeps soundly until morning. I stopped expecting things to be better with Farrah many months ago but I do hope for better, sooner.
Most days and all evenings my mind is occupied by how I’m going to manage during the night. There is a certain amount of dread at every sunset but mostly there is acceptance. Acceptance with tears and cursing, but acceptance nonetheless. I wish I could be a better mother and better wife but I am a slave to her sleep; it holds the dominant position in our household and my finger hurts from plugging up the dam of despair. But as kind-hearted people are so quick to note: at least she’s cheerful!
And she is – you are – my little tomato, but please Darling, save it for the sunrise.