This morning I woke up again feeling unsettled after a poor night’s sleep. I’m in bed for the recommended 8 hours, but I keep tossing and turning. Last week it was due to a cough from post nasal drip. This week—anxiety over new house concerns, as well as anticipation of other new professional things around the bend.
Thankfully my daughter slept long enough for me to get in some yoga this morning, but my anxiety was still in full force after my early morning session.
My daughter woke up, nursed, and spent much of the next half hour climbing on and clinging to me. She was whining when I put her down, just wanting to be held.
I—an anxiety-ridden mother—am meant to be the stronghold for this precious little girl.
I—this exhausted shell of a woman—am meant to hold and comfort my child as she wakes up for her night slumber.
Many mornings are better than this one. But the overwhelm was at high levels today.
I ordered my daughter swimming floaties this morning.
But I continue to search for my own lifesaver—for stability and safety in this unpredictable world of question marks and never-ending change.