I am grateful for a few hours of deep, uninterrupted sleep. Since Hudson died, the combination of grief and pregnancy has left me a largely restless sleeper for six months. I don’t have trouble falling asleep at bedtime, but I often wake up around 2AM, have a hard time going back to sleep, and then sleep fitfully the rest of the night, tossing and turning and waking frequently (and worrying that I am keeping Ed awake, too). And I spend a lot of those waking hours letting my mind wander to places it shouldn’t (like the hospital, how we are going to celebrate Hudson’s birthday in a few days, all the things that could go wrong with the Penguin).
Last night, I woke up a few times to go to the bathroom (one of these days, I will stop drinking full glasses of water after 8PM, especially when I am pregnant), but each time, I felt as though I had slept a full night’s worth in a few hours. Maybe it was the long day of cooking, eating, and entertaining little ones, but I slept hard, without dreaming or even moving, it seemed. Each time I woke, I remember feeling thankful for being able to sleep that hard. My poor body needs it badly.
Blessings come in the simplest of packages—I just have to recognize them.