Go the f**k to sleep…

“The cats nestle close to their kittens now. The lambs have laid down with the sheep. You’re cozy and warm in your bed, my dear. Please go the fuck to sleep.” – Adam Mansbach

When I was pregnant with the kid, the hubby and I “planned” the course of her life over the next nine months with precise judgment, Dr. Spock and What to Expect When You’re Expecting in tow. You see, my pregnancy was going to be “perfect” – there was no room for failure.

When I was a little girl, my “plan” was to have six children – yup, just like the Brady Bunch, three girls and three boys…minus the death, divorce and optional indentured housekeeper. As an adult, having worked with some of the most damaged children as the result of the most messed up parents in existence, I swore off children forever. The hubby wasn’t much keener on the idea either, thanks to Family Court pretty much zapping him of any desire to procreate. But then it happened…after seven years of marriage, me having transferred to the adult unit and the hubby becoming a managing attorney, we sat on the couch and admitted to one another through a waterfall of tears that we really wanted to have kids together…and then we discovered that I couldn’t get pregnant…

“Mann Tracht, Un Gott Lacht” – Man plans and G-d laughs…

In 1995, after two years of multiple physicians telling me, “It’s just allergies, hun,” I was diagnosed with a rare neurological condition know as pseudotumor cerbri. Two physicians have earned street cred here – Dr. Howard J. Gross, Ophthalmologist (for catching it) and Dr. Robert Sergott, Neuro-Opthalmologist/Wills Eye Hospital (for successfully treating it).

“Pseudotumor cerebri literally means “false brain tumor.” It is likely due to high pressure within the skull caused by the buildup or poor absorption of cerebrospinal fluid (CSF). The disorder is most common in women between the ages of 20 and 50. Symptoms of pseudotumor cerebri, which include headache, nausea, vomiting, and pulsating sounds within the head, closely mimic symptoms of large brain tumors.”

National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke

That “buildup or poor absorption of (CSF)” does quite a number on your head – headaches like you’ve never experienced ever in your life (and that includes migraines, of which I’ve had a number). Close your eyes and envision the inside of your body – your heart pumping blood, your lungs filling with oxygen, your kidneys filtering impurities, your bladder filling and releasing. Now imagine the fluid that runs up and down your spine into and out of your brain…and it gets stuck inside your head…that head that contains your brain…inside a skull made of inflexible bone. There’s only so many openings in the skull allowing fluid to escape…or get trapped. Enter the sella turcica:

Sella-turcica-anatomy

Not only did my CSF push its way through my eye sockets, causing temporary blindness and frightening vertigo, it decided to form a pool inside my sella and, in turn, drowned and pulverized my pituitary gland into a pancake. Biology 101 – a mammal needs a pituitary gland to procreate. But my pituitary gland didn’t know that because it was a hot mess smashed against my sella wall.

Luckily for me, in 1997 the particular medication I needed in order to get pregnant had finished its trials and was available for use – cabergoline. It was the easiest medication I’ve ever taken in my life – half a pill once a week and no side effects whatsoever! Within two month’s time, I was miraculously pregnant with the kid. Eight years later, following my hysterectomy, the obstetrician would tell me how baffled he was that I ever got pregnant in the first place – numerous fibroids (one as big as a grapefruit) had grown like fungus on an old rusty pipe and severe endometriosis had left me hemorrhaging, my uterus having fused with my bladder and both fusing to the back wall of my abdominal cavity (which would explain a very painful pregnancy). By that point, we all believed the kid was a true miracle…

One of the greatest things about the kid is that she has slept through the night since the age of five weeks and in her own bed. She unquestionably takes after her father, who can fall asleep at the drop of a hat without warning. Since day one, every night at bedtime the hubby would take the kid to her room, read a book to her and she would fall asleep mostly without incident. What the kid sucked at was napping, which completely ceased the day we took away her binky at 18 months-of-age. In the end, it was a godsend – she was definitely going to sleep through the night for sure!

I can’t say I’ve ever been that good at going to sleep. And the kid takes after me when it comes to napping – they’re nonexistent…

When we were little girls, Regina and I shared a bedroom. Tucking ourselves into bed at night, we patiently waited for dad to come upstairs to turn off the lights. Begging him for a bedtime story, my father would reluctantly fabricate some kind of tale to get us to go to sleep: “Once upon a time there were two girls named Regina and Alice and they went to bed. The end.” Other times he seemed to be telling a story, but inevitably the “story” was just a lengthy joke with punchlines we seldom understood. And sometimes he liked to play pranks…

One of the big fads back in the 70s was baton twirling. On a regular basis the kids on my block would gather together (girls and boys alike) in someones driveway and practice various twirling routines. We even formed a “class” at one point, two older neighborhood sisters being our “teachers.” But the real rage of baton twirling at that time was the glow-in-the-dark baton – a green plastic rod with rubber glow-in-the-dark balls on the ends. Hours were spent in darkened rooms twirling away to watch the streaks of light flashing through the air.

Back to our nightly bedtime routine and that occasion when dad played a prank so worthy it sticks in my mind to this day. After telling whatever “story” of the night, my father turned off the light and pretended to leave the room, closing the door “behind” him. As Regina and I drifted off into la-la land, we heard the soft moanings of a ghost lost in purgatory. Sheepishly peeking from behind my covers to see the entity in the dark, all I could see were two small green eyes floating in the air…and then…”BOOGETY, BOOGETY, BOOGETY!” those small green eyes jumping up and down in some kind of ritualistic dance performed prior to devouring its prey. Unbeknownst to us, dad had secretly grabbed the glow-in-the-dark baton before turning off the lights and stayed in the room long enough to convince us he was long gone downstairs…

Now, decades of fear sleeping later, I can’t sleep. Between the hot flashes and mind-racing anxiety, I pray for one solid night of rest…waiting for those small green eyes to perform one more time…

“Scary monsters, super creeps
Keep me running, running scared”

Scary Monsters – David Bowie

“I had run for 3 years, 2 months, 14 days, and 16 hours.” – Forrest Gump

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