I recently had a humbling mothering experience.  It was during a trip to my in-law’s house, they live 8 hours away. It had been a busy stressful week of organizing our belongings and cleaning our house in preparation for our trip.  Nary a kind word had been exchanged between myself and my partner in at least 5 days. After a long drive after a full day’s work we arrived at the inlaw’s at 1:30 am.  They stayed up to warmly welcome us, which was quite kind, but also a little challenging.  Our daughter, running on pure adrenaline, was ready to play with all the toys she hadn’t seen before and the two friendly dogs she’s been talking about for a week.  So, while mama and papa are zombie like trying to settle her for bed, she’s got other plans.  Flash forward an hour to me laying on the floor in a makeshift toddler bed nursing my daughter trying to get her to sleep, which she is not giving in to.

I started to feel very trapped, and angry, and anxious, and depressed.  Laying there in the dark, wishing I could free myself, my thoughts turned very negative.  “I can’t do this, I don’t like this, I want to get away, any kind of pain would be better than this moment right now.”  I felt the worst that I have in years. I tried to wriggle away after it seemed she’d fallen asleep only to awaken her again.  That’s when I lost it.  Crying, hunched over, wanting to just run.  I felt so stuck.  In a house full of people it’s just not ok to let your kid cry it out at 3 am.  I felt like I was the only option for soothing the baby, but it felt like something I couldn’t do in that moment.  But, I could and I did.  I sat with my dark thoughts, my partner rubbing my back, unsure what the hell was going on (you can’t talk it out at 3am when you’re trying to get the baby to bed).  Finally she fell asleep and I crawled into bed, feeling battle weary.  Eventually sleep came.

I expected the feelings to be there in the morning with the same intensity.  I wasn’t sure how I would get through a weekend with family, while experiencing this turmoil. But, in the morning the worst of those feelings had faded.  What felt like a turning point last night seemed more like a momentary blip.  What seemed inevitable and endless had now floated away.  Yes, I was still a little stressed and my partner and I had some repair work to do, but I was not feeling like I needed to run away, drive back home, or have an immediate admission to an upscale spa.  I was OK.  Not great, still a little wobbly, but OK.

As I took my time joining the gang that morning I reflected on the fact that everything is worse at 3am. I remembered this vividly from my postpartum days.  I remember the dark lonely nights sitting up with a baby.  I remembered the feeling of wanting to escape.  I remembered the visceral anxiety and uncertainty about my capacity to be a mother.  It was so tender and vulnerable.  I remember wishing the minutes of the nights away so I wouldn’t be alone.  I’ve never wished away a night in my adult life like I did when I had a newborn.  They were so dark, lonely, and endless.  The challenge of adjusting to a baby’s night feeding schedule is crippling for so many parents. I felt like if I could just stay awake with everyone all night I would be ok; of course I couldn’t and didn’t. Eventually I got to a place of realizing that if I just make it through this night the day will be better. So we inched towards a better place night by night.

Everything seems worse at 3am.  It’s so easy to get lost in your thoughts, worries, and loneliness in the wee hours of the morning.  I had to find a distraction for me during those times so I wouldn’t feel so suffocated by the darkness.  I watched three seasons of Sex and The City on my phone during the first month of my daughter’s life between the hours of 12am and 5am.  It was a little cheesy, and I’d seen it all before, but it brought back positive memories and distracted me from anxious or depressed thoughts. Eventually I learned to nurse while lying down and sleeping which also helped me  make it through many long nights well into my daughter’s second year of life.  Which is not to say I didn’t have many 3am moments of feeling on the verge of a breakdown (and clearly I still have them from time to time).

I don’t have any tips or a neat little package of wisdom for you this week.  I just want you to know that I’ve been where you are.  I know the darkness, the pain, the anxiety, and the desire to run.  If it’s 3am where you are try to remember that everything is worse this time of day, and it will probably be better once the sun comes up.