By Natalie Roberts-Mazzeo
We’ve had some rough nights with our daughter who has additional needs, walking up and down the hallway as we take turns to try and soothe her little body.
Running baths to help her feel comfort when she can’t find calm.
I mix medicines under soft lights and watch the clock tick over from 12am, 2am, 3am and on.
This space is all too familiar, I wonder how many hours of sleep we will get before the sun rises. My mind spins off to the day ahead and all of a sudden her additional needs feel bigger than usual.
I have nothing but my intuition to lean on when all else is unknown.
I can’t recall the last night we have all slept a whole night through together, often when she wakes and finally resettles, we are left alert and full of adrenaline and trying to find quiet and calm ourselves.
Through these unsettled nights that come and go, I carry her body as she drapes over my arms, so delicate, fragile and full of mystery.
I wonder why she is so unsettled? If only she could talk and let me know.
See page 2 for the rest of the story…
