For some people, the thought of snuggling into a duvet and having a good night’s sleep at the end of the day is what gets them through. It might even be taken for granted as so natural and predictable.

For us, since Lincoln was very small, the nights have been just as unpredictable as the days. The sleep issue has been one that has affected the whole family and the totality of all of our lives. It has touched every aspect – work, holidays, school and days out and we have had to conform to a new normal.

It starts at 10pm when I urge myself to go to bed as we may be woken up within 5 hours. I ignore pressing fears about what the night ahead may entail and speak positively to myself that perhaps tonight will be different and the next time I open my eyes and check the clock it will be at least 5am. Please. Please. Please.

But, too often, the next time I open my eyes it is pitch black and the only sound I hear is the thumpety-thump of baby elephant feet coming from the next room and approaching ours.

I have a few moments to focus and try to push back thoughts that this might be the start of the day. But our little night visitor is reluctant to venture back to his room and I can tell that tonight no matter what I do, my chances of settling him again are slim.  

As I encourage Lincoln to go back to sleep, for the next couple of hours I do everything in my power to calm my mind, my nerves and my breath.  These events sure have been a master-class in mindfulness.

3am is a very lonely time and worry is amplified during the long, night hours. I tell myself that everything will be ok and we will get through but, in reality, the super early starts have impacted our daily lives and it is hard not to agonise about how consistent lack of sleep will impact Lincoln’s development, which is already affected by additional challenges.

The relief I feel when I finally hear his little snores is considerable. The next thing that crosses my mind is that I don’t want to now mess this up by waking him up as I crawl back to my own bed. I creep out of his room and around the squeakiest landing floorboards in the world, back to my room ‘Mission Impossible’ style so as not to cause any noise that will undo all of my hours’ patient work.

I have got myself into some right positions attempting to do this. Picture this; I have made it to basecamp 1; the bathroom floor (tiles equals non-squeaky) and am an arm’s reach away from base 2; the stair banister. It is quite a stretch and reminds me every time as I am hanging there by an arm and a leg that I really need to get into my Pilates again. A tiptoe along the outskirts of the hallway and another long stretch, reaching the final destination; our bedroom. I may have been holding my breath the entire time. I relax and shuffle along in the dark. Then I crack my shin on the bed and have to muffle a #*@%!!

It doesn’t help that the little guy, who used to need hearing aids, seems to now be disturbed by a noise as small as a mouse-fart in the night! Of course, I am pleased that his hearing has improved but…really?!

I continue to seek prayer and advice for our sleep issues and am pleased to say they are improving and I hope they continue to do so as he gets older. I am grateful to have had an opportunity to build some character (patience was never my strong-suit) but…..for the love of sleep!…. I am looking forward to some rest.