I have spoken a lot in my past posts about fatigue, particularly the fatigue that a growing family is exposed to. The kind that you get from not having a choice as to whether or not you can sleep, because you can't, because your children can't, you can't. Somehow for me I have found that it is during these moments that I somehow most want to sleep, no, most need to sleep, when I know that I have no alternative but to stay awake. Last night was one of those nights, my son couldn't sleep, he could find no peace, he could not find comfort, he was emotional, and the whole night was tough.
From about 1:15 a.m. until 5:45 a.m. our little man was awake with his eyes closed, all the members of his body rolling and tussling about, every so often he broke into tears. Try as we might we could do nothing to solve this riddle. Which is where the battle with fatigue for me began, somehow I have convinced myself that any problem that comes up I expect I can solve it, I expect to be able to take care of it. It is those expectations that often set me up for the mightiest of falls. Because try as I might most things don't really work out like I expect them to, and that can be disappointing, if not frustrating. I continue to teach myself the hard way. On my way in this morning I had two quotes running in my mind:
"Be strong. Live honorably and with dignity. When you don't think you can, hold on."
— James Frey (A Million Little Pieces)
and
"I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children."
-The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
Somehow I don't think I was holding on, and I'm sure I didn't pass the test getting up. The journey continues, the lessons are abundant and my ability to soak them up is limited, which makes the redundant lessons all the more valuable.
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