Not so long ago, the Smidget stopped sleeping in two to three hour blocks and instead woke every hour to hour and a half to eat. It seemed that the instant I put him down and dozed off, he was awake and crying again. Our evenings started following this pattern: he would happily splash his way though his bath, often flooding the bathroom in the process, get his pajamas on, say goodnight to Daddy, and nurse for 2-3 hours while in a light sleep. Around midnight I would put him in the bassinet, brush my teeth, go to bed, wake up twenty minutes later to feed him, and then 6-7 other times between 1 am and 9 am.
The first two nights of this were rough but I told myself it was a short term thing. Another growth spurt, even though it felt like it had only been a few days since the last one ended. During the day, the feeding frenzy continued. It felt like if he was awake, he wanted to eat. I stopped crafting during Smidget's first nap of the day and instead went back to bed when he did. We dragged ourselves to church on Sunday morning and I spent all of church service in the opposite end of the building nursing him, because there was a one-year old in the nursery that had the flu.
By night three I was desperate for sleep and spent every nursing session reading about sleep training and how I was teaching my kiddo bad habits by letting him nurse as frequently as he wanted to at night but I couldn't reconcile the fact that I KNEW he could go longer without eating because he HAS gone longer, with the idea that this was all my fault for teaching him bad habits. And yet in my sleep-deprived state I couldn't help but wonder if this was a disaster of my own creation, so I attempted to soothe him back to sleep without nursing, only to inspire a full on baby-apocalypse when he didn't get fed. I could only conclude that if he's waking up its because he needs something and so we continue on.
On day four the laundry and dishes are piling up and the grocery shopping hadn't been done in a week. We're living off of takeout. I'm eating crackers and cream cheese for lunch. I don't want to take Smidget anywhere because he still wants to eat every hour or so during the day. My computer died a few weeks ago so I don't even have my video games to distract me while he's nursing. My husband is being a trooper but I'm starting to snark at him constantly. He tries to take the baby off my hands more often but it doesn't work. I spend my time nursing the baby and trying to prepare our financial documents for our tax guy. I read an article with the best line ever - "This too shall pass; it may pass like a kidney stone but it will pass." It becomes my mantra.
Its day five and I'm so tired I can't sleep when I lay down to nap. The taxes still need to be done. I realize I haven't showered in three days. I put Planet Earth II on Netflix and plop the baby in front of the TV for 15 minutes just so I can take a shower. Mom guilt abounds. I'm falling asleep during our middle of the night nursing sessions. More mom guilt. I thank God for boppy pillows and recliners.
On day six I have to go keep my appointment with my tax preparer. I'm dreading it but I load the baby up anyway, fill the car up with gas, and head out to my Mother-In-Law's house, who is going to watch the kiddo while I go to my appointment. My car breaks down on the way. This is the third major repair on our vehicles in two months. I'm grateful we made it off the freeway in one piece but my nerves are frayed. Jack leaves work early to have it towed, my mother in law picks me and the baby up at the gas station I managed to limp my car to. She asks me what the plan is and all I can come up with is "cry." I feed the baby, rush to my appointment, rush back to feed the baby who has now been without nutrition for two hours and its the end of the world, Jack has the car towed, and a trip that was supposed to take 3-4 hours takes 7 hours.
During all of this, Smidget's teething gets bad, so he's even fussier and crankier than I am. He also has dry scaly red and bumpy cheeks and I've spent two weeks trying to figure out whats causing it. They're itchy and he keeps clawing at them, occasionally scratching them open. I've changed his laundry detergent and his bath soap, rewashed all his clothes and bedding, coated his cheeks with lanolin, coconut oil with lavender, and rose ointment, and nothing helps. I make him wear socks on his hands, which he hates, and make him sleep swaddled to keep him from scratching his face in his sleep, which he hates.
Day seven rolls around and its now been an entire week since I had more than one consecutive hour of sleep. Smidget and I are both feeling the sleep deprivation. I pass him off to Jack, cancel my chiropractic appointment, send them off to keep theirs, and attempt to take a nap. The baby screams all the way there and all the way back. I have my niece and my teenage cousin coming over the next day to celebrate the Olympics, something I scheduled weeks ago, and I have nothing to feed them and no activities for them to do. I haven't cleaned up the house. I'm going to give up on breastfeeding, convert him to formula, start the baby on solids earlier than planned. I'm tired of spending 8-10 hours a day with an infant attached to my chest.
Then the baby sleeps for five hours straight that night.
All is not right with the world but my outlook is suddenly much brighter. He's still eating constantly during the day. I still haven't done housework or laundry. The car is still in the shop undergoing repairs.He's still only sleeping 2-3 hours before waking to eat. He's still trying to get the first tooth to pop through his gums and drooling like his life depends on it. He still doesn't want to be put down for any reason. But we both survived. And once in a while he smiles and giggles at me and I remember why I'm putting myself through this.
Ours days are still up and down. Some better, some worse. But if you are going through something similar, remember - This Too Shall Pass. It may pass like a kidney stone, but it will pass.
