Sleep, Sweet Slumber

Even before I truly understood how vital sleep is to health, I cherished it. During my years as a college student, then medical student, resident, and new mother, I was often sleep-deprived. As a family medicine physician, being “on-call” every third night only added to the fatigue, nay exhaustion. I’m still making up for lost sleep—if that’s even possible.

Now, sleep has become a kind of Olympic sport for me. I have no trouble practicing the sleep hygiene I preach to my patients. Every morning, I get up at the same time—5:15 AM. I anchor my body clock by stepping outside before 9 AM for several minutes. I don’t have caffeine past 9 AM. I make sure to exercise throughout the day to build up “sleep pressure.” I stop eating three hours before and use blue light blockers or turn off screens two hours before bedtime. My phone charges in another room instead of on my nightstand. I have a consistent bedtime: stretching, deep breathing, and prayers of gratitude. I take magnesium and then hit the hay at the same time every night for a restful eight hours.

Why? Because sleep is good medicine. It’s when and how the body clears out the toxic byproducts of stress and the countless biochemical reactions that occur automatically in the brain and body throughout the day. It’s the time for restoration, repair, and recharging. People who prioritize sleep and sleep well live longer with less chronic diseases.

I love to sleep.

So these last several days of poor sleep have been especially troubling for me. And I know exactly why I’m not sleeping well—I injured my neck during a recent quilting marathon. I was determined to finish whipstitching the binding on a quilt for my mother, and I thought quilting during the drive to Bend would be the perfect use of time. In reality, being hunched over in the back seat for three hours like a body contortionist was a disaster for my neck. I fall asleep fine, but whenever I move and turn my neck, I wake up in excruciating pain.

Worse than the pain, though, is waking up and worrying.

Worrying at night isn’t new for me. I often fret about finances, perseverate about projects, obsess about obligations, or dwell on disputes. Typically, I can coach myself off any cliff and get right back to sleeping like a baby.

This time, however, my usual strategies—thought dumping, deep breathing, visualization, prayer, and meditation—aren’t working. My mind keeps spinning, and restful sleep mocks me. Even an insomniac would empathize with my sleepless nights.

This time, I am worrying about my daughter. She was recently engaged to be married.  And of course, I am over the moon happy for her. Interestingly though, being the mother of the bride is altogether different than being the mother of the groom. Sure, I am more involved in the wedding plans. There are so many decisions not to mention complicated relationship dynamics. I had a vision of Elena’s dad dancing in front of her like a whirling dervish. I tried to protect her from the clouds of commotion that were brewing, but instead I got caught up in them and caused more commotion myself. Poor Kenny had to anchor down me by tying a rope around my waist while Tosh did the same for Elena. I laugh.

That is certainly taking up some of the real estate of my night watches. But it’s not the half of it.

Elena is getting married. Have I done everything for her that she needs. As her mother, I mean.

While Jacob’s engagement and wedding brought up grief that gently asked for tender loving care, Elena’s engagement is uncovering even more layers that are screaming for attention. Grief often wants to point the finger of blame. What was that saying when we were kids?” When you point fingers, there are three fingers pointing back at you.”

I did not act swiftly enough when Sammy fell ill very suddenly, and he died. If only I had…. That powerful “if only” belief that has been pushing me around and haunting me is now at play with Elena.

This is what screeches at me when I wake up in pain. I think about all the ways I have fallen short and all the things I could still do that might still make a difference. There is still time for me to be her mom. I conjure up the perfect scenario and search for the perfect words. And I rehearse them over and over.  So I can undo what I did wrong and do now what I didn’t do then. So I can rescue her. So I can save her.

And I sit straight up in bed, heart racing, face flushed, in a cold sweat.

She does not need saving. She’s not dying.

I glance at the glowing red numbers on the clock: 3:33am. I lay back down and stare at the ceiling until the alarm goes off.

After a week of this madness, I decide to reach out for help. I call my sister and schedule a session with my coach. They are so skilled at active listening, reflecting, and asking questions with curiosity and not criticism. They help me stay observant, objective, and open.

Another picture comes to me. I am on the sidelines of Team Elena, running up and down the field. God is the coach and I am chomping at the bit. “Put me in, Coach! Put me in!”

My own coach wisely inquired, “and what is God saying?”

Perhaps Jeremiah 29: I know the plans I have for Elena (and you, beloved Julie).Isaiah 55:8-9 For my thoughts are not your thoughts, and my ways are not your ways. Philippians 1:6 I have begun a good work in both of you and I will be faithful to complete it. John 14:27 My peace I give you. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

“Beautiful,” the coach responded and then offered Psalm 84:3 Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young – a place near your altar.

I see God smiling and I hear God reassuring me that He has always been and always will be, “I’m right here and I’m letting Elena call the plays. Let’s you and I cheer her on.” And rather than resisting, I stand in wonder that I am not in control and that’s the way it’s supposed to be. I stand in amazement at the beautifully imperfect human being I am. I could never be a perfect mom, not for Sammy and not for Elena. And that’s ok.  Actually, wow, that’s such a relief! And Elena does not have to be perfect either. Instead, in our humanity, we are lovingly invited to live in the grace of God, the compassion of Jesus, and the comfort of the Holy Spirit.

“The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise, we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.” Thomas Merton.

I am happy to report that though I still have some neck pain, I am sleeping peacefully through the night once again. I will lay down and sleep in peace, for You alone, O Lord make me dwell in safety. Psalm 4:8