When I had my first baby, sleep was a huge deal. My life revolved around sleep.
Try to get sleep, try to get baby to sleep, try to keep baby asleep, try to fall asleep, try to sleep for long stretches, try to sneak in a nap. I was so tired that all I ever wanted to do was sleep. And I was so concerned that I wasn't getting enough sleep that I couldn't get it off my mind.
The interesting thing is that the more I worried about trying to get sleep and my lack of it, the less sleep I ended up getting--and the more anxious and depressed I got. It was one exhausting, horrible cycle.
With my second baby, I did things differently. I told myself it wasn't a big deal if I didn't get much sleep. It wasn't a big deal if it took me a while to fall asleep. It wasn't a big deal if I was up 10 times at night. It wasn't a big deal if my baby didn't go right to sleep after waking at night. It wasn't a big deal if I never got a nap during the day. And it wasn't a big deal if I was tired all day.