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Monday, July 26, 2010

After Dark

When I am really exhausted, I tend to wake up with a start in the middle of night. Why? For some reason, my brain is convinced that Peter is in bed with us and is in peril. The first time this happened, Pete was only a couple of days old and I was certain that Josh had rolled over on Peter. Now, Peter was safely swaddled and sleeping blissfully unaware of his mommy's delusional brain.

The last time this happened was a couple of weeks ago. I had a hard time getting to sleep and the sleep I did get was fitful. I semi-woke up in a panic, thinking that Pete was struggling in his swaddle. I "knew" he was down by my legs trying to get out. I reached down trying to help him out. There was a lot of soft fluffy, which I couldn't understand. I was trying to uncover his head, but it wasn't coming out. After struggling with him for a few minutes, my brain cleared and realized, what I was struggling with.

The culprit:
Yep, my pillow. What I thought was Pete's head was the top of the pillow, and I was struggling with getting it out of its sham.

I am sure I'll have more starts in the middle of night, roll Josh over, or feel on the other side of the bed where I am sure that Pete is, and then realize that Pete is comfortably sleeping in his own bed.

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