Symantics aside, this little trait of mine roared its ugly little head recently when I called my good friend, Donovan, in the middle of the night in a state of total despair. See, my son, who I love more than anything, even the TV show LOST, is apparently allergic to sleep. He has never slept more than a few hours at a time since the day he was born which was ten months ago. A typical night looks like this:
go down at 8:30
wake up at 10:00 - rock for 15 minutes
wake up 11:45 - nurse and rock for 25 minutes
wake up at 12:30 - needs pacifier
wake up at 1:15 - pat butt for 10 minutes
wake up at 2:30 - nurses for 15 minutes
wake up at 3:45 - wants to play; makes "bob, bob, bob" sounds; needs to be re-swaddled and rocked and nursed back to sleepy mode - 45 minutes
wake up at 5:30 - more butt patting
wake up at 6:30 - butt pat, pacifier
wake up at 7:30 - up for the day.
So, when I made the call to my friend, Donovan, I unloaded onto him about how much resentment was brewing in my body toward Jack, how little I was enjoying him lately, and how frustrated I was becoming with him during the night. I was worried, real worried, about what this all meant, about how I might be making all of the wrong choices in raising him, how maybe subconsciously I wanted him to wake up or that maybe we were too enmeshed. I started doubting myself as a parent, as a good person, and began to wonder if I had been abused as a child and the rage I was experiencing was a result of buried, subconscious and unresolved trauma. I worried about how this would all affect him someday, and envisioned him as a brooding, black-eyeliner-wearing teenager who listens to the Dead Kennedy's and refuses to open his bedroom door. I cried and cried and cried on the phone, my life looking bleak and utterly complicated, and then Donovan said to me:
"Amber, I think you just need some sleep."
Internet, I swear that this had not occurred to me. These words hit me like the proverbial fry pan to the head. Could it really be that simple?
He went on. "I could sit here and process all of this stuff with you, Amber, but I really think that you're just sleep deprived."
Sometimes I need people to just point out the obvious to me, to show me the forest amongst the trees, to give me a big helping of some good ol' fashioned common sense. Maybe I do just need sleep.
He was right, of course, and I got some (thanks to Mirna, Janna, and my Mom).
Now I need to go get some orange juice.
6 comments:
It seems so fitting that I get to be the first on here that gets to throw down a tag.
I have to say how much I love reading your blog for how much I begin to think and appreciate all the ways that I don't know about that my mother took care of me, for all of the things that my mother did for me or went through for me...that I might never know about.
You are making me wonder Amber, and for that little piece of wonderment I find a greater sense of gratitude and loving for all the things that I might never know about my mother. Thank you.
I also wish to say how much I'm laughing because I can distinctly recall from my own childhood my mother saying how smart I was, and how I was able to figure out the complicated, yet how I frequently made things complicated, there were some fairly clear statements of how "lacking I was in common sense" at the time.
I suppose I should forward your blog over to my mother, if for no other reason than to let her know that I've found my "common sense"...and that maybe I even grew up a little in the process. Thanks Amber. Love you.
D.
Mirna, as in The Amazing Race Mirna? Did you name your son after Jack on Lost? Just had to ask. I hope sleep isn't avoiding you and thanks for visiting my blog.
Dearest Amber,
From one insane mother to another, I feel your pain, I really do. Having survived this mind-crippling stage 3 times I know a few tricks or two if you are interested. Perhaps with a little sleep you've got your game on again. And I know that everyone says it, and that it's really hard to believe, but this too shall pass, I promise. I am living proof. And all of my children are still living as well.
OMG, Amber, I loved your entry, and can't wait to read more! I just want to let you know that my husband (yes, the Gap-clad CTO who is a Minister, most loving and wonderful partner) went through a "a brooding, black-eyeliner-wearing teenager who listens to the Dead Kennedy's and refuses to open his bedroom door" phase- I've seen the photographic evidence! This despite the most fab, amazing parents who did USM when he was little. Then one day he just grew out of it. So remember that, if the time ever comes...You sounds like a wonderful mother by the way :) and Jack is just doing his thing...
Amber,
Try to get him to sleep in his own bed now, rather than when he can climb out of his crib or get out of bed, then the battle is even harder.
If he is crying himself to sleep and it drives you bonkers, try getting a floor fan or a "white noise" maker, something that will drown out the crying. Especially if he is waking up that many times during the night. It will help you sleep better. And he really shouldn't be waking up that many times at this age. So if he's not waking you up, and your not coming in, he'll eventually cry himself back to sleep. As sad as that sounds, it's what he needs to learn how to do, put himself to sleep.
Also make sure he is getting enough calories during the day. When I stopped nursing my Jack at 7 months and put him on formula, he slept through the night for the first time.
It sounds like you are a wonderful momma. And the fact that you care enough to make changes means that you are doing just fine. Parenthood is years and years of trials and errors and constantly adjusting to find what works the best for YOU! Hang in there!
I'm sitting by myself in the student lounge at school, and the part of your blog where you write, "Internet, I swear this thought had not occurred to me" made me laugh out loud, and it was embarrassing but totally worth it.
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