It’s 10:41 PM and the baby is asleep… for now.
Evan is just over 5 months old and he is a wretched sleeper. Tonight, after I nursed him to bed in his sleep suit, he woke up and hour later screaming. Per usual.
Dad went in to soothe him, and even though he managed to get Evan to fall asleep again more than once, he woke up yelling a few seconds later. After 30 minutes of listening to the wails from downstairs, my momma-instinct kicked in and I took over. Back on the boob Evan went, and I somehow managed to sneak out of the room to write this post. Who knows how long I have before another wake-up. If it follows the previous nights’ pattern, I’ll be back in his room at least once for another wake-up and then for the rest of the night, nursing him on both breasts all night to keep him quiet.
I never expected this from our second son. Dean, #1, seemed hard, but by this age he slept soundly in his swing, waking once or twice a night, then would fall back asleep fairly quickly. Not Evan. A lot of times when I try to sneak away he reaches and grabs for me, holding me close, searching for my breast-pacifier. And if he doesn’t get his way, watch out! MadRageScreaming! Stuff nightmares are made of. Only pure exhaustion will stop him – momentarily – and then he’ll start up again.
I need to remember this moment when my kids are older and I want two more, like I’ve always wanted. I need to remember these sleepless nights, when I’m three rooms away from my husband, yearning for more than 1 or 2 consecutive hours of sleep.
I need to remember how I cut out dairy, soy, nuts, wheat, legumes, etc. to help fix his tummy… to no avail. (We thought it would fix his sleep issues).
I need to remember how I had to leave my older son alone in his playroom in the morning, praying he didn’t get into trouble, while I nursed Evan to sleep for his first nap.
I need to remember how at 5 pm every night, in the middle of making dinner, Evan would need to be attached to me in some way, so that I couldn’t feed myself or the rest of my family or enjoy the food I worked hard to prepare.
The thing is, this kid is so darn cute. He’s adorably fun, squeaky, cuddly. As long as sleep isn’t involved, he’s the best little thing on the planet.
But SLEEP. It is my most favorite thing in the world, other than my family. And he’s robbing it from me, and himself. Someone please wave a magic wand and fix this!