Unbroken sleep
Seven months of interrupted sleep…sleep broken by baby who’s formed the habit. Several months before that of interrupted sleep…sleep broken by a need to pee…multiple times in the night. Should I be used to it? Somewhat. But it leaves me tired in the morning. And my days are not spent as efficiently as they could be.
I’m ready to reclaim my sleep…unbroken sleep. I’m not waiting years. No, not three years to do so. I’ve done that before. Had I known it could be three years, I would have been more proactive. But three years crept up on me. On us. Adoring Father couldn’t bear the thought that Darling Angel may not need the cup of milk she so fervently begged for at 3am every night. “Oh! Let’s break this habit”, we would decide. But the pleas would melt his heart. What can I say? He’s AF.
I’m ready to reclaim my sleep…unbroken sleep. Seven months is long enough and we’re out of excuses for “why not”. I’m ready to let him cry it out. Cry it out and go to sleep. Cry it out and stay asleep. And I’ve learned my lesson - I will not let him “cry it out” while AF is around. He’s away, so we will “cry it out” tonight.
This is day 2. Day 1 started out better than I expected. Fed, bathed, fed, sleepy, dropped in crib, protested. The day before, I would have picked him up. But instead, I patted him on the back, blew him a kiss and walked out the door. “How long was I willing to listen to him cry?”, I asked myself. “Two hours”, I told myself. I put on the TV and tried to concentrate on what I was watching, but I was really watching the clock. And listening to the tone of the cry. “Two hours”, I kept reminding myself. It felt like two hours, but it was 20 minutes when the crying stopped. I heaved a sigh of relief, took a quick peek at him and went to bed.
Three hours later, his cries woke me up. “Don’t do it”, I told myself. “Let him cry it out”. Less than 5 minutes later, he was quiet. Delighted! I started falling back asleep. But I thought perhaps I should take a peek at him. I found him asleep, but sitting upright, holding on to the slats of his crib. The sight sent a wave of guilt washing over me. I snatched him out of the crib, hugged him tight and carried him back into bed with me. From there, we fell into our regular routine. The following morning, I wondered why I didn’t simply place him back in his crib on his back!
Day 2. Fed, bathed, fed, placed in crib, protested, left in crib. Asleep in 5 minutes. I took a peek, and AGAIN, he’s asleep but sitting upright, holding on to the slats of the crib. I gently placed him on his back. And got busy doing the things I wouldn’t be able to do while holding him in my arms, rocking him to sleep. Now, I’m watching the clock, waiting for his 3 hour wake. This time, I’m keeping my wits around me. He’s staying in his crib. I feel victorious already.
When AF gets home, he’ll be grateful for unbroken sleep. But I won’t be ‘fessing up about how we did it. Okay, I tend to blab…but what’s done is done. And done for The Good.
