This morning I had to motivate myself to get out of bed. My daughter and husband are both sick and I’ve been sick for a little while now but I am well enough to go to work (and not contagious). My alarm went off several times and each time I turned it off then set another for ten minutes, fifteen minutes, twenty minutes out. This routine started at 5:30 and didn’t end until 7:40. At 7:40, I started telling myself in my head “get up! Get out of this bed!” but it was so hard. It was cold, my husband was snoring all night because he is sick, the baby snoring and making loud sick noises and my being sick kept me up off and on all night. This morning my body was almost at its breaking point of saying “pick another day, this one is not it.”
I didn’t fully understand what giving up my “me” time meant before the baby came. I knew there would be cuddles and she would want our attention but I didn’t truly get it. You have to hold them for a really long time, they fuss and want you to hold them, they want you to rock them and feed them and never be out of their eyesight. My husband insisted that I take a shower when I was home alone with her. He would say, “put her in her pack n’ play, she’ll be fine.” At first, I didn’t believe him because she would scream like she was being attacked. This led to many instances of thrown open shower doors, water all over the floor from shower to pack n’ play and a baby being picked up by a soaking wet lunatic. In all the times of throwing open the door and running to pick her up she never had any real issues besides being hungry or a wet booty. I’m thankful that she was always fine and was just needy.