It was the second time I had cried that day.
I was trying to sleep after feeding Alistair in the afternoon, but Amy came into the room again (for the hundredth time) to disturb me. I tried to ignore her and hoped that she would entertain herself with the iPad, but she stood up and opened the curtain, which allowed in the sun light and unbearable heat right onto my body.
I threw the blanket away and stormed out of the room. Amy cheerfully followed behind me.
I stormed downstairs. Amy was singing songs as she tailed me.
I angrily moaned to everyone downstairs that Amy was disturbing me and I couldn’t sleep. Amy was still happily following behind me.
I stormed into the kitchen, and, not knowing what to do in my silent anger, grabbed some drinks and tried to eat a piece of Twiggies.
The hubby came in and asked me to go sleep while he handled Amy. At this point, tears already flooded my eyes and all I could do in reply was shake my head, swallow the bite of cake in my mouth, and go to the toilet. I shut the door and bawled my eyes out.
Even as I was crying, I felt silly. Why was I crying over the lack of sleep? It seemed to be such a trivial, stupid reason.
Oh but I was so exhausted, you have no idea. I haven’t had sufficient sleep since Alistair came home. I know it’s supposed to be “normal” for new parents to have that deprivation of sleep. But, a busy sleepless night coupled with a busy sleepless day for the past three weeks was beginning to take a toll on me.
Sure, some days I would get to sleep a whole TWO HOURS STRAIGHT. That is such luxury you know? But it’s simply not enough.
Locked inside the bathroom, I did ask myself if I was experiencing postpartum blues. I guess it was possible. Or I was simply too exhausted.
Anyway, I could hear Amy calling out for me from outside the bathroom (cheerfully still, bless her soul), and I waited till the redness left my eyes before going out.
I really wanted to be upset with her. But one look at her cute, cheerful face beaming up to me… My heart melted.
And so I took a deep breath, and girded myself for another day.
One day at a time. One moment at a time.
All the while reminding myself that these exhausting days will pass before I even know it. Soon I would be able to sleep in all I want.
And the reason for my current tiredness is more than worth it: the privilege of having and raising my two precious children.
p/s: The first time I cried that day was also due to lack of sleep. My rest was constantly interrupted first by Amy then Alistair then Amy then Alistair then Amy… you get the drift.