I try to quiet my mind. I try so hard. Focus on my breath. Consciously release tension in each area of my body, commencing with my toes and ending with my brows. Surprised at the little places in my body where stress is still hiding it’s ugly little head. Jaw. Shoulders. Eyes.
The nightlight turns off. The dryer has finished its cycle. My baby breathes. My husband breathes. Still, I lie awake. The pressure to fall asleep mounting with every passing minute. Each minute gone by is a minute lost.
Giovanna will wake soon and I have yet to see a glimpse of dreamland. I am fairly sleep deprived. I have been since January 20th. It wasn’t that difficult at first. I hardly cared about sleeping. I only cared about my darling tiny baby. Fast forward three months. To a baby that wakes every hour or two and a mother who is tired.
So, you see, it shouldn’t be difficult for me to fall asleep. I am adequately tired. Each night, I count my blessings, send up prayers for my loved ones, focus on my breathing. Until my mind wanders to a more interesting subject. And I think. And I plan. And I worry. And I think.
How do you fall asleep? Painlessly? Or painfully slow?