Sleeping the sleep of a mother

I woke up at 5:30 this morning when Ben got up to go to the bathroom. Then I lay in bed until 6:20 when Eliza decided to grace us with an early weekend wake-up. I got up with her and tried to put her back down, but once I returned to bed, it was obvious via the flashing red lights and whines coming from the baby monitor that The Stig was up for good. Ben got up with her while I tried to go back to sleep, but by that point my stomach had woken up and started protesting not having been fed for 12 hours. So that was the end of that.

While never a rockstar sleeper, having a baby has inched me ever closer to Princess and the Pea status. Everything in my bedroom has to be just so before I can fall asleep, and I have to pee about 18 times before I can be confident that I won't wake up in the middle of the night needing to go to the bathroom, because if I wake up there is a very good chance that I won't get back to sleep for two hours. And if Eliza wakes up in the middle of the night I can guarantee you that I will spend 10 minutes with her and another hour and a half tossing and turning in bed. I think being pregnant and giving birth turned my body into a hormonal fiesta, a party which, in the Mexican tradition, seems to be neverending.