Sleepless Nights

Author: Veronica

  • A return to creativity.

    Last November, I participated in NaNoWriMo, writing 60k words of a novel in 30 days. It was hard, but rewarding and amazing at the same time. Sleepless Nights spent the month being neglected as I swapped my time between my novel, a tiny Evelyn, and everything else.

    It wasn’t long afterwards that PND took up residence inside my psyche, making everything more difficult than it needed to be. I started meds, which saved my sanity and my marriage. Meds however, killed my creativity, even once I’d adjusted to them. I could still write, but it was harder to think of ideas and fiction was completely beyond me.

    A little while ago, I tapered down my meds, before stopping entirely. I stayed on the meds until they began to make me feel the same way PND did.

    This morning, I stood in the shower and had multiple ideas for what I wanted to write today. It had been months since I managed any good shower ideas, and honestly, I was so relieved to have my brain back – both from PND and from meds. I’ve also managed to cook again.

    I missed this part of me.

    Yesterday I pushed myself out of my comfort zone and wrote a flash fiction piece in response to a writing challenge. It was scary to write fiction again and scarier to publish it and share the link. But creativity is a great and scary thing.

    I’m pushing myself. I’m coming back.

    It feels good.

  • Pillows for the baby. A tale of sleep woe.

    Evelyn flops around in her bed all night, imitating a fish out of water. She can’t find a spot she likes and so she wakes up every forty minutes to let me know how angry she is that she can’t stay asleep.

    She flips and flops and gets angrier and angrier before shrieking her displeasure, feeding briefly and starting the whole process again. I change her blankets. Softer, heavier, snugglier. I put bunny rugs under her sheet to soften everything. I come very close to just giving up and learning to never sleep again.

    She hits her head on the cot bars and I weave blankets around them to create a barrier. She tears them out.

    Evelyn does this every night for months. I spend my nights half asleep, patting her back or rubbing her feet, letting her settle into the soothing round and round of my hands. I am exhausted, but these are the sacrifices you make for a baby.

    Last night, she wouldn’t settle. After I’d put her down for the nth time, only to have her flopflipflop and scream, I gave up.

    I found a pillow. Thin, but soft, I put it in her cot. Carefully I snuggled her back to sleep and put her down with her head on the pillow. She sighed, rolled on her side, snuggled in and slept for four hours.

    Now, if only I’d thought of this a month ago.

    Evelyn Asleep

  • Evelyn learns to climb; thinks she’s hilarious.

    Evelyn 12 monthsIt was a little after 7am this morning when Evelyn climbed from the arm of the couch, onto the window sill and then onto the kitchen bench. I’d been awake with her until 3am and while she was perky and happy after a little sleep, a lot of boobs and some panadol, I can’t say I was feeling the same way. This is my excuse for why I didn’t notice her precarious position until she threw my teapot onto the floor, shattering it.

    Later, as I told the story on social media, I explained that I was lucky – the teapot was mostly empty and entirely cold, and there had been a carton of eggs right next to the teapot that she could have dropped instead.

    My brain was barely up to cleaning soggy cold tea leaves off the floor – I would not have coped trying to get egg yolk out of the carpet too.

    Of course,  I’d spoken too soon and when I opened the egg carton at lunch time to make egg sandwiches, there were three eggs with their tops bashed in. Seems Evelyn had beat up the egg carton with the teapot before she dropped it.

    Her look of glee as I removed her from her perch, wedged between the microwave and the couch, has been imprinted in my brain, and I’ll be referring back to that the next time we have to do a developmental chart.

  • Tasmania from the sky – with Gift It Now

    This post includes photos from a seaplane flight sponsored by Gift it Now in conjunction with Tasmanian Air Adventures.

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    Nathan Seaplane Flight 079

    Father’s Day for us generally falls around Amy’s birthday, which makes Nathan the least loved member of our family in September. A matter which doesn’t seem to bother him terribly, but it’s something I notice. He does love flying, so when Gift It Now got in touch with me about providing a sponsored post for a Father’s Day campaign, AND it involved a seaplane flight, I said yes immediately.

    Last week Nathan headed off to collect his father, and they got to experience Hobart from the air as my Father’s Day gift to them both. Nathan does a lot for our family, not the least of which is driving everywhere and doing most of the housework. It was nice to give him something just for himself.

    Tasmania is beautiful.

    Nathan Seaplane Flight 083

    Nathan Seaplane Flight 042

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    Nathan Seaplane Flight 051

    Nathan Seaplane Flight 073

    Nathan Seaplane Flight 092

    Gift it Now are encouraging people to buy an experience for Father’s Day, rather than a coffee mug he may or may not use. Not that I have anything against coffee mugs. But seaplane flights are just a bit cooler. So is skydiving, or jet boating, or hot air ballooning. You know. Cool things. Not socks, or underwear, or picture frames.

    Experiences like this are something great. Nathan declared it to be relaxing – and as the most uptight person I know (probably) it was nice to see him relaxed and enthusiastic afterwards. And it’s something he’ll remember. Who knows, I might send him jetboating for his birthday. Maybe.

    rsz_gin-logo

    If you want to buy an experience for Father’s Day, or just an in general AWESOME PRESENT, check out Gift It Now’s website.

    And, if you’re in Tassie, Nathan cannot recommend Tasmanian Air Adventures enough. He said they were wonderful, polite and friendly. And they do all kinds of flights – not just around Hobart. Personally, I want to see Wineglass Bay from the air. I’ve walked the track, and so I’ve seen it from the lookouts, and from the ground (it remains one of my favourite beaches), but from the air? How cool would that be.

     

  • My baby confuses everyone. Me especially.

    I don’t know what is wrong with me. Time is catching up with us, and I’m treading water again, wondering if I need to increase my antidepressants, or sit in the sun, or stand in the dirt with bare feet. Maybe I need to bake a cake, or learn to run, or swing upside down again. Maybe I just need a moment of peace, a breather, where I can forget about the myriad of appointments coming up, and everything I have to do.

    Evelyn’s swallow study is booked for early next week. Amy’s theratogs are ordered and will arrive soon. We’re braced up and strapped in and I’m falling apart here, mentally and emotionally.

    Everything hinges on the next appointment. We can’t look back and wonder what we might have done differently, when we’re too busy trying to get through this moment.

    We got through Eve’s EEG without any dramas, and with lots of twitching. Now we wait for the neurology team to read the results and get back in touch with us. Are they seizures? Are we looking at a movement disorder? Can someone please tell me why my baby twitches like a dreaming puppy? Why she can’t sleep without jerking herself awake? Why she can’t swallow anything anymore?

    Everyone is stumped, confused by this child. She looks so good, and yet, the issues continue.

    She pulled up to standing this morning and distracted, forgot to hold on. For a very long second, she stood there, alone and unsupported, before realising and sitting back down with a start. I applauded. She applauded. We all applauded.

    Her shoulder clicks and her knees dislocate and I am exhausted. It’s a marathon, having a baby who isn’t quite normal.

    (But at least we’re at home with her, not stuck in hospital)

    I’ve had writers block and my brain exploded all over the floor, unable to cope with the pressure of my thoughts and no release valve. I’m trying, trying oh so hard to work out what I need to put in place to keep myself sane, but I’m three steps behind and I can’t quite catch up. I’m forcing myself to write, to listen to music, to dance with the baby. I can’t be all the things to all the people, so sorry, fuck you. My energy is limited and you can’t have it. Go away. (But not you. I like you.)

    I’m anxiously waiting for Spring. Even with a mild winter, there isn’t enough sunshine (never enough sunshine) and I just need to be able to breathe again, and watch the trees bud up and the plants grow. Maybe photograph a frog that hasn’t been mauled by angry kittens.

    Can someone please just book me a holiday please. I’m ready to be done.

    /brain dump