So I mentioned last month that I was trying to night-wean my Little Miss. Partly because "It's time." Partly because the pediatrician "suggested" it ("Well, if she is nursing in the night, the worry is that she won't eat as much during the day"). And partly because I have realized all along that I was doing myself and my family a disservice by letting my sleep-deprivation get the best of my parenting gut instincts and spoiling this darling child as long as I have.
Well, it's just not going so well.
The problem all along has simply been logistics. With the crib in our bedroom, I cannot feasibly let Sophia cry it out a little and keep my sanity--or my husband's. She wakes up at 2am crying and immediately gets up, peers over the crib at me, and then starts BOUNCING on her crib mattress until I get her. In order to not annoy my husband, I usually respond immediately. And bring her to bed to nurse her back to sleep. And if I manage to stay awake, I try to put her back in the crib without waking her--which does not always work so well. And then we play the game again around 4:00 or 5:00.
Another issue is the bedtime routine. I never really established a good one. Basically, her routine amounts to: change into pajamas, nurse to sleep. Sometimes I am able to read her a book. Sometimes she is stinky enough I gave her a bath. Most times I am dealing with three other children who need to be carpooled from here to there and then get snacks and homework checks and put to bed and then next thing I know, it's 10:00, and I am having to nurse every ounce of milk out of me in order to get Sophia to finally settle down from all the ruckus.
I tried. I really did. We did OK for a few days. She even managed to sleep through that 5am feeding a couple of nights. And then...I think that the exhaustion just got the best of me. Having to get up and then walk downstairs (in my FREEZING living room) and sway and cuddle her back to sleep took its toll on me. Next thing I knew, that 5am feeding was back, and John and I were wretched messes.
Anyone on the tweets knows that I've been whining for a while about the weary wretchedness. Just...not good. Because suddenly Sophia started waking up almost EVERY HOUR. And I completely forgot my name with all the insomnia.
(Note here that it may have been the unluckily-timed eruption of the 7th tooth that "helped" with this whole mess....)
Well, it came to a head one night when I tried desperately to sooth Sophia back to sleep without nursing her. I actually think I'd already nursed her once...I don't remember anymore. But I do know that that night it took over an hour of dancing, swaying, singing, cuddling before the sleeps finally came. John let me stay in the bedroom while HE tried to sleep on the couch. It was horrible.
So the next night, I went back to nursing her back to sleep. Just so that we could get some sleep. And yes, she kept waking up very, very frequently. And then I realized that she was basically not sleeping AT ALL unless she was in our bed and/or on my chest.
Well, all that on-again, off-again nursing must have messed up my body. Or maybe it was the day I woke up, and she may or may not have been sleeping partially on my breast...? I dunno, but last Wednesday night I came down with a case of mastitis. I spent all that night until Thursday morning running a fever that got up to 101 and with that lovely plugged duct pain in my right breast and...the poor baby. Most of Thursday I was so down with it (I also had an upset stomach), that she stayed in her crib while I tried to shake off the fever in my bed and threw cheerios over the bars at her when she seemed hungry.
Well, I got over my mastitis (and did NOT have to go to the doctor in the 2 feet of snow on Friday! Woot!), but I am still at a complete loss on how to get this baby to sleep ON HER OWN. Meanwhile, the lack of sleep is turning me into a complete hag to my other children--and my husband and I are hardly speaking we are so tired and grumpy.
After another night of the same ol' on Sunday, I decided ONCE AGAIN to make some sort of attempt to clean out the spare room. In my frenzied, sleep-deprived state, I think that I thought that if I could just get her out of MY room, she would automatically start sleeping like the good, sweet child I know she is. So around naptimes and 13-yo sister-availability times, I managed to sort of clean out a corner in that @#$% spare room yesterday where I set up the pack'n'play to start some SERIOUS sleep-training.
I realized last night that the feeble-minded plan just won't work. Yet. I need to set up a comfortable place for myself close by. I probably should start on a Friday night to HOPEFULLY give everyone in the house at least SOME recuperation time when they are not expected to work or stay awake through tests. I need to take a step back and realize that since she's regressed to sleeping with me (or on my chest) again that I will probably fail miserably on most nights and can't expect miracles. It would probably help if I had a rocking chair.
Next week the kids have off for winter break, so at least if we are miserable from this trial period, we can all be miserable together, without early morning bus-catching and then homework expectations (well, except for that poor working schlep, John).
Be prepared for more whining, twitter. It's about to get REAL.
2 comments:
It's never easy, is it! You'll get through this!
Oh I feel you, lady, I feel you! Talia's mini crib is still in our room... since our bedroom still isn't quite finished so there IS nowhere else for her to be. She eats at least twice a night, and I'm just resigned, I guess. I don't have the energy left to even imagine trying to change the situation. I've been giving her some cereal, and she likes it ok the last week or so, but it's not helping her sleep any better.
So we'll see what happens in a few weeks when we move into our room and she actually has a nursery to move into. I don't know if she'll even sleep in there, period, let alone through the night, so I predict some hardcore whining/fretting from me too!
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