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It’s a dark, chilly October morning. I’m cold and feeling very low. My baby is crying because she’s tired and has the sniffles. I’m crying because I’m tired and have the sniffles. We both want to sleep.

The newborn bubble has well and truly burst. My beautiful daughter has reached four months and, while I love her so fiercely it makes my heart physically ache, I am exhausted. I feel spent and alone. My husband is at work all day and my friends haven’t yet got children. The hours until bedtime stretch ahead like a dark, sleepless void. I cry again.

I feel like I’ve failed my daughter somehow, because I’m not feeling bubbly and happy today. I feel like I’ve failed at motherhood somehow, because I’m not enjoying it this morning.

And then, a knock at the door.

It’s my next door neighbour. When I greet her, red-eyed and dribbly-nosed, she takes one look at me and puts her arms out. Without allowing for one word of protest, my neighbour takes my baby and sends me to bed. I sleep for two hours. Two long hours. I wake, refreshed, ready to feed my child, play with my child and be the mum I want to be.

You can read the rest of this post on the Netmums blog.

If you enjoy it, perhaps you might consider nominating me for a MAD Blog Award or voting for me in The Brilliance in Blogging Awards, for which I’m shortlisted in the Lit category.  Just a thought.

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