Child ill. Slept almost not at all. Suspended night-weaning attempts, to help him get better faster. Oh. Oh oh oh. Ow. Cannot work today. Husband has taken wee one (thankfully much improved this morning) out and away, and I find myself wishing I were the kind of person who could nap. But napping makes me sick to my stomach and badly disoriented.

Two years of sleep deprivation. More, if you count the last few months of my pregnancy. What will the ultimate cost be? My cognition, speech, and memory are all impaired now, some days terribly so. The course I taught over the summer? I cringe when I remember some of my errors. But--on the positive?--my memory is so damaged, I can hardly recall the course now, anyway. One of my fears is that there will be lasting damage, even once the child finally learns to sleep longer than two hours at a time.

I do not dare have another child. I know my son is a high-needs kid, and that they are not all like that, but what if kid number two was the same? I cannot go through this again. I just don't have the strength, physical, mental, or psychological. I adore my little sweet pea, but I cannot lose another two years.

My mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it.