So Early, So Tired

I have been a portrait painter for 15 years, and, after the birth of my son in 2011 I found myself taking almost a two year break from exhibiting. The image I used was a snapshot taken, by my wife, of a fleeting moment. We had all but forgotten about the photo until she happened upon it while deleting unwanted photos. Although only three years previous, nether of us can remember with clarity the day nor the occasion of the photo, such was the extreme tiredness of our existence then. My sons bright blue eyes are wide and alert looking out the window. Mine, by contrast are struggling to stay open as I gaze, in a daze at nothing in particular. Now, having painted it I wonder what I was looking at!
My hands are tense, with veins apparent as I hold the most precious thing in the world. I regularly leapt out of bed at the time having dreamt I had dropped him!
As a brief history to the canvas itself. It used to be a painting of my wife so when turned 90 degrees anticlockwise she is still visible. My chin now covers where her left eye was. Her right eye has been obscured. Nose, mouth and chin still visible.
I see it as a family portrait of sorts.