This was supposed to be a funny YouTube comment but then it got way too real

The lusty cries of my child rip me out of sweet nothingness
I stumble downstairs, smacking the light switch
Fill the bottle up to 270ml of water
Add 9 spoons of powdered milk, screw on teat, and microwave for exactly 45 seconds
(5 seconds for every 30ml is the rule of thumb, for my microwave anyway)
Crawl up two flights of stairs to the blessed darkness of her room
Pick her up – she stops crying – collapse together on the broken sofa
She guzzles it down while I doze
But then cries again because there wasn’t enough
(The bottle only goes up to 300ml)
Or she wants to get up
So stand, sit, stand again
(Sometimes the blood takes a while to reach my legs)
I sit her on my right hip
And, clutching the bannister
Creep downstairs
(Place the empty bottle strategically next to her changing table where I won’t forget it later)
And lie in bed, hoping against all reason and experience
That maybe she will fall back to sleep until some less ungodly hour
Sometimes she will cuddle
Or lie still and sing to herself
But her voice is so sweet, I find myself singing along
And soon she is throwing herself on top of me
(Mummies make the best cushions)
And off the edge of the bed
(Or she would if I didn’t keep a firm hold of her sleep sack)
And I am forced to confront the day
If only for the sake of my internal organs
And getting her to daycare on time
(Thank God for daycare)
I dress us both
Often in similar clothes
(I swear it’s subconscious, I’m not one of THOSE parents)
Eat breakfast, or what’s left after she takes her share
Trudge upstairs again to change her
Read a story or a song book or three
Then stuff us both into our winter coats
And psychologically prepare myself to act

Like I am not about to start hyperventilating
Like I have something important to do after this
(Like a job)
Like I won’t just hole up in bed until 2:45pm
feeling guilty about the housework
wondering why I’m like this
Like I’m not just going to sleep
And wake to sleep paralysis, and struggle out of it
And wander around in sluggish autopilot
Wondering if she can tell
Or if this is her normal
Until evening when, too tired to sleep,
I long for that sweet nothingness
Unattainable because I’m so afraid of being ripped out of it
By the cries of my one true love
And again
And again

Note: I’m ok. Honest. Most of the time, anyway. I’m in a bit of a winter slump, so I do have these anxiety days more often at the moment, but I’m taking my vitamine D and seeing a therapist, and I have support, and most of the time I’m fine. Baby Diva does mostly sleep through the night now, although she has her difficult phases, like most kids do, and those are exhausting. And even when she doesn’t, I do have bad days. But I know that some other parents have bad days too, and might relate to this, so I decided to share it, regardless of who it might worry. It’s not like this every day, for me, but it might be for somebody else, and I just wanted to let them know they’re not alone.


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