If you’re thinking about having a baby — and even if you’re not — you’ve probably heard some horror stories about sleepless nights. They’re all true. But like everything else about having a child, sleep deprivation is a new part of life you just get used to.
Ava has never been what anyone would call a sound sleeper. Like most babies, she’ll sleep through the night now and then, but mostly she wakes up at least once a night. Even though we’ve been dealing with this for almost two years now and have become accustomed to the midnight stumble into her room, it’s still frsustrating now and then to have to get up just as we’ve fallen asleep.
Last night was a real doozy. In addition to Ava’s usual late-night antics, a series of strong thunderstorms moved through our area with huge blasts of thunder and brilliant flashes of lightning. The storms didn’t seem to bother Ava that much, but none of us got much deep sleep after we brought her into our bed.
My nocturnal issues with Ava stem mainly from matters of space. I’m 6’1″ and about 190 lbs., while Ava is pushing 27″ and maybe 25 lbs. soaking wet in her winter coat. Yet seeing to her comfort has become so ingrained in me that I’ll often wake in the night to find that she’s squirmed around and pushed me all the way to the last five inches of my side of the bed. One night I awoke with half my torso hanging off the mattress. I love having Ava in the bed with us, but there are sacrifices involved. When she moves, I move. Worst of all, Ava tends to kick a lot at night, and whether by coincidence of physical design or by subconscious intent, she almost always manages to land a few right square in my most sensitive of areas.
Not surprisingly, we overslept this morning. Leah jumped up suddenly to announce that it was 7:12. She raced off to shower while Ava and I sprawled in the bed. I rolled over and patted her hip. “The clouds went ‘boom!’ last night, didn’t they?” She rolled onto her back and stretched her whole body, arms straight out over her head. “Yeah!” She beamed from under her mop of tousled blonde hair. I rubbed her exposed belly and laughed. One smile. One smile and a big silly stretch was all it took to wipe away a night spent perched precariously over our oak floors while my genitals received more abuse than a speedbag in a kickboxing gym.
It must be love.