Today I am feeling weepy. And not in the fun, ridiculous, pregnancy way that I love so much.

No, today I am feeling pretty defeated by exhaustion and emotions in general. It doesn’t feel very good, but I think it’s okay that I’m having this kind of day. And I think it is important to acknowledge this side of my experience right now. I always worry that people will think I’m an ungrateful whiner when I am not enjoying part of motherhood. But I’m not ungrateful – I’m tired. And that’s not the same thing.

Wanting a break doesn’t mean I don’t love my kid. Bawling through a 4-hour-long wake-up session in the middle of the night doesn’t mean I don’t love being a mom.

I’m just tired. So, so tired.

I shouldn’t have to qualify my misery by reminding myself and the world that I love my child. But here I am, despite my best efforts, trying to minimize my negative feelings by saying, “but guys! I really am happy!”

So I’m going to stop it for a minute. You all know I’m happy. I know I’m happy.

But guys, today I’m not very happy. Today I’m really tired, and I can’t stop crying, even sitting at my desk at work. Today I feel confused about what to do about my child not sleeping at night, and how to get through teething-hell with my sanity in tact. Today I don’t even feel a shred of the joy I normally feel about being pregnant with another baby, because being pregnant is adding to the already crippling exhaustion and inability to keep my emotions under control. Today I don’t know what to do.

What is the answer to helping your child with teething pain when painkillers, orajel, snuggles, and calming sleep tablets do nothing to change the situation? I got less than 4 hours of sleep last night, and my child got less than 7. This isn’t just miserable for me, it is unhealthy for both of us. Night after night of this for such a significant portion of my sweet boy’s life is bad for him, and it makes me a worse mom.

I turn ugly, angry, depressed (especially during the night) when enough of these awful nights get strung together in a row. I’m not the mom I want to be. I think terrible things, I growl and sometimes even yell at my baby. He gets so upset when he sees me crying – I think it scares him. And I just don’t see the solution. I just don’t see it. It has to be there, but I don’t see it.

Kyle is trying to problem solve with me. He tries to be there for me. But when I’m up in the middle of the night, it doesn’t feel like I’m a part of a team. It feels like I’m completely alone in an abyss, and no one is looking into the hole and throwing me a rope.

And that’s how today is. And it’s okay that today is that way. I don’t have to try to put a positive spin on today. Here’s to living in the moments, good and bad. And here’s to hoping there are more good moments on the horizon, and that Kyle and I can figure out this sleep thing so Lewis and I can stop suffering.