Love/Hate...

I love this time of night. It is currently 10:42 on my clock. The house is so quiet. I can hear the fan running in Max's room, and my keys hitting as I type. And that's it. It's too cold to be outside of the covers, so I'm snuggled up in bed in the pitch dark, all except for the glow of my computer screen.

It's a beautiful time to just unwind...and start to lay down all of the things I need pick back up in the morning. It is a time for me....until...

It is now 10:44 on my clock. I hear Max crying in his room. I know he is fighting the urge to stay asleep, because he was, just two minutes ago asleep. So I wait and listen for a few minutes to see if he stops, or if I must go in there to try to get him back into sleep.

10:45, all quiet again. 10:46...screaming. 10:47...checking in. 10:48...rolled him over and back in my bed.

This is my night. Waiting through these first couple of hours to try to unwind, listen for him, check on him, come back to bed, try to go to sleep, one ear open...one eye open.

I hate nights. I hate to sleep. Because in almost 6 years I haven't slept a comfortable sleep once.

We play this game all night. When we finally wake in the morning, it's like gathering around the water-cooler exchanging wild stories from the night before.

"How many times were you up?"

"I think I finally fell asleep halfway on his bed and halfway on the floor."

"When did you get to sleep...when did you wake up?"

We are living like zombie parents of a newborn...only almost 6 years on. Those first 6 months to a year of a baby are so tiring...they're up all the time. But for most babies, they outgrow it. They get into a routine, and go to bed and stay asleep all night. But as we were reminded earlier this week, Max may never outgrow his inability to sleep well.

We were talking with his neurologist on Monday, and he reminded us, as only he can, that Max's brain is not normal. Very matter of fact, not at all patronizing. Just a reminder...that indeed...Max's brain does not work like a typical kid's. The area that tells him to sleep is malformed. And because of this, he will likely always have sleep issues.

Which means...I will too. I wish I could sleep through the crying. But I can't. Until I am so exhausted I literally can't get out of bed. But that's maybe one night a month. And Steve and I exchange those nights. Tonight he's not feeling great, so I'll be taking the full shift.

And no, that does not mean I will get to nap, or take the day off tomorrow. Because my boy will be happy to stay awake all day too.

I've talked with all of his doctors about his lack of heavy sleep. Because he does sleep...he gets to sleep and then wakes up in a terrible scream. Until he's comforted back to sleep. And that's the dance we do all night. His neurologist does not believe it is seizures, so no increased medication is needed. We've currently been given the okay to give him a higher dose of melatonin a night, and to try that for a month, and then we'll check back in to see if there is something else to try without drugging him.

11:05...I'm tired. Ready to fall into a deep heavy wonderful sleep. I do love this time of night. And maybe in another life-time I'll get to enjoy the restoring act of sleep again.