9 posts tagged “sleep deprived”

As I type, I'm running the first of many month-end reports. I was sent home yesterday because my boss thought I looked too sick to be at work, so I (obviously) didn't get a chance to do any of my work. Blech. The plus side is that I got a good nap in yesterday, which I definitely needed given that somebody (who will go unnamed) decided he didn't want to go to sleep last night. I'm not sure when he woke up, but after a little bit of nursing, four ounces of corn, a few sips of milk, and a few hours, I finally got him asleep in his own bed (with my sweatshirt) around 1AM.

And then he woke up at 4:30. That was just as well, to be honest, because I needed to get to work early and push out all the things I needed to have done last night. But I really would have liked another hour or two of sleep.

So, we'll give it another go today.

I asked Chris to bring The Boy to school today so that I could get to work extra early. I left the house just as The Boy was finishing breakfast and about to be changed out of his pajamas.

The worst thing, though, is that I'm still not feeling right. As I type, I can hear my stomach turning, and it's not a great sound (or feeling). The vomiting has stopped (thank GAWD), but then there's the nasty business of that other part which, though much preferable to vomiting, is just plain awful.

Normally, I have a hot chocolate in the mornings with just a splash of coffee. It's enough caffeine to keep me going until about 4, and by then, a simple walk around the office is enough to perk me up again. But today...

Baby C is teething. And, for some weird reason, this round seems much worse than the other rounds. (It may be because I've had a couple of months reprieve from the teething monster.) Not only that, but he's peeing a lot, which means lots of wet diapers and subsequent diaper changes. Oh, and he's also congested with a very runny nose. (I'm giving him lots of extra water because of the congestion, which explains why there's a lot of pee. I'm paranoid when it comes to dehydration.)

Anyway, last week, he sort of readjusted to the West Coast/East Coast time change. He never really adjusted to West Coast time, so I don't think it was too difficult of a transition back. However, this weekend was a doozy. Which explains why I'm dragging so heavily today.

Yesterday, Chris took my niece's Flat Stanley to Disney World - to all four parks. He and Flat Stanley had a blast, I'm sure. Meanwhile, I stayed home with the boy, who would instantaneously flip between giggling, delightful Happy Baby to screaming Cranky Baby. I'm sure you can guess which version I prefered. Anyway, by the time Chris got home, I was starving (the Boy, however, was not, as he had consumed copious amounts of food, as is his norm), exhausted from chasing after him while simultaneously attempting (operative word there) to clean the house, and very close to the proverbial edge. So, once Chris came home and I had a chance to eat half of a very long baguette, I eagerly left my husband with Happy Baby (who waved good-bye to me - only the second time I've seen him wave to anyone) and ran my errands.

Chris was exhausted last night from traversing all of Disney World, and because he was sore, I offered him some Advil PM to help him sleep. Baby C was Cranky Baby when bedtime rolled around, but he ultimately went to sleep and allowed me a few moments to resume my attempts (operative word again) at cleaning the house. Except that he woke up every hour and a half for one reason or another. First, I think it was his teeth. Then he needed a diaper change. Then he wanted to nurse. I didn't go to bed until midnight, wasn't asleep until 12:30, and was awakened just 15 minutes later. Which meant I didn't fall back asleep until almost 1:30. Thankfully, that was the last awakening of the night.

At 6:30 this morning (which, pre-time change, was really 5:30), as Chris was getting ready for work, I heard a familiar cry. It wasn't a real cry, more of a "Oh, it's morning and I so wish I didn't have to wake up but as I'm awake you might as well wake up, too" cry. The same kind of cry I do when I hear this cry, only much more vocal. (My cry is a very internal cry, and not nearly as effective in waking others around me.) I pulled the covers over my head and asked Chris to look after him for a few minutes, just long enough to let me use the bathroom and get dressed.

And I've been up ever since.

I really shouldn't complain. After all, I got five uninterrupted hours of sleep. There used to be a time when I would have sold my left kidney for that.

I just realized that my sleep (or lack thereof) may be directly affected by my late-morning beverage of choice.

I don't drink a lot of coffee. I drank it like a fiend when I was in college (and mastered the art of the Iced Banesso - I may post the recipe if I get enough comments asking for it), but I don't drink it often now.

Having made that disclaimer, I've been drinking hot chocolate in the mornings at work with a splash (a couple of tablespoons, really) of regular-strength coffee mixed in for good measure. I'll finish this sometime before 11, and it helps me get through the day.

Today, I didn't have my hot chocolate because my morning commute took f-o-r-e-v-e-r. And you know what? When you only get about 4 or 5 hours of sleep a night (or, in my case, early in the morning), you really start to feel it by the afternoon.

So, I've skipped my daily hot chocolate - not on purpose - and I'll see if this will enable me to fall asleep sometime before, say, 2 o'clock.

Here's hoping, anyway.

This morning, Baby C is not a happy baby. He's sleepy, hungry, and congested, which is not a good combination. Any attempts to alleviate some congestion (namely, the giant green bulb aspirator) have been met with screams of terror. Any attempts to alleviate the hunger are futile, as he detaches fairly quickly with a cry of frustration that seems to say, "Mom, I can't breathe!" And all this means sleep is a far, distant dream.

For both of us.

Two nights ago, I never would have thought it possible.

No, Baby C is not sleeping through the night (yet). I really think that would be this side of miraculous if he did it - literally - in one night. But he's sleeping now in 3 - 4 hour stretches, which is the equivalent of his eating schedule, so I really have no grounds for complaint.

After talking to my sister about my struggles with him, she asked me to reconsider letting him cry himself to sleep. After all, he's only 4 months old (today!), and he's still eating on a fairly regular basis. So, I changed tactics a bit, and it seemed to work really well. At some point, yes, he'll need to cut out one of his nighttime feedings, but I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Here's how tonight went:

9:30 - Last feeding of the day. Had him swaddled already while I fed him, then put him down (still awake but drowsy and content) with his pacifier. After a bit of a struggle, during which one arm got free and Chris had to reswaddle him, he slept without incident.

1:30 - I heard him fussing and went into his room to find him sans pacifier. I put it back and started to return to bed, only to hear him spit it out and continue fussing. After I realized it had been 4 hours since he last ate (and I was feeling particularly full), I fed him (still swaddled). Once he finished (unlatched on his own),  I managed to get out one tiny, feeble burp before putting him down (drowsy and content). I gave him some Mylicon to forestall any gas pains the remaining bubble might cause, then popped his pacifier in his mouth.

4:40 - Same as above, only that it had been 3 hours since he last ate.

So, he's asleep in his own bed again, and I just wanted to jump online and give my little update before I forgot about it. (I think little anecdotes like these are best when delivered fresh.)

I've learned a few things over the past few days:

1. I am not a bad mother for letting him sleep with me because it afforded us both a chance to get some rest.

2. Cosleeping was, however, making me a little crazy because it cut into time with my husband, and it's just as important for me to be a good wife as it is a good mother.

3. A boy who hated being swaddled from birth actually may change his tune at 4 months.

4. He may also change it back again, and I need to remain flexible.

5. My instincts are not off.

I have to thank everyone who commented on my last post about my non-sleeping baby with words of encouragement - and reminders that other moms (besides my own and my husband's) have gone through this, too.

Bolstered with this new confidence, I dusted off some books my sister passed on to me, reread a number of strategies, and told my husband, in no uncertain terms, "Here's what we're going to do."

Well, getting the boy to sleep initially was a challenge. He was rubbing his eyes, so I knew he was tired, but I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why he wouldn't settle down. Finally, it dawned on me that he wanted the closeness of being held by Mommy or Daddy, so I swaddled him, and POOF! Eyes still open, he quieted himself, and I left the room after telling him that Mommy and Daddy love him very much.

That was at 11 o'clock.

Fast forward to 1:20 (yes, I slept for two whole hours without the baby!), and I could hear him fussing. Don't get up, I urged myself. I let him fuss for a few minutes, then got up to check on him as his sounds became more urgent. He managed to unswaddle himself a bit, which I quickly righted, then left after telling him that Mommy and Daddy love him very much.

But then the cries wouldn't stop. In fact, they intensified. My husband rolled over and looked at me with this Aren't-you-going-to-do-something-about-his-crying look, and I reminded him of the sleep strategies the books suggested. "This is where we're going to need to be very strong during the week," I said. (Yes, there's a reason I waited until a Friday night to test out the books. Believe it or not, I anticipated this kind of reaction.)

At 1:40, after going back, giving him Mylicon drops (in case he had more than a little gas), leaving him alone for another five minutes, and still no end in sight for the crying, I picked up his tightly swaddled little body and rocked him to sleep. Careful to return him to bed before he hit absolute unconsciousness, I watched him squirm a bit, accept his pacifier without protest, and settle down into a quiet near-sleep state.

I've since heard him make a few gurgling sounds, but nothing to cause me to rush into his room and check on him immediately.

We may survive this yet. I'll keep you all posted.

One thing I insisted I would never, never, never do once the baby came was allow him to sleep in my bed.

And then the baby came. And, after a shaky start, I got him back in his room without a good deal of drama.

But then I went back to work and caught a cold (that was replaced by the day care's sickness du jour), and with Baby C not sleeping through the nights (yet? I'm still holding out hope) and insisting on being fed every two and a half to three hours, the only way for me to get any rest was to take him to bed with me for feedings. And then I'd fall asleep, and in bed with me he would remain.

It seems like that was forever ago. And now I'm battling getting the boy to sleep in his own bed for longer than a few minutes. (I'm elated if he stays asleep long enough for me to shower.) I don't suppose it helps, either, that he's congested and that I can't seem to get that last gas bubble out of his tummy.

Thank God this crow is well-seasoned.

So I've been up now for the past two hours (not just awake, mind you, but actually up) trying to get Baby C to sleep in his own bed. He'll do it, but then as soon as I crawl back into the warm safety of my own bed, I'll hear him crying. Sometimes it's a cry of hunger. Every now and then it's a cry of pain (damned gas bubbles). But more often than not, it seems like it's a cry of frustration at being unable to fall asleep again after waking.

I get especially frustrated when it's this last type of cry, mainly because I wonder if my actions have hindered the learning of this very important skill. And then I feel exceptionally guilty all over again because I have to work and don't have the luxury of working with him on this at night and taking naps during the day. I feel like I need to take time off so I can help him figure out this sleeping thing and not have the affects of sleep deprivation affect me as severely as it does at work. And I'm also a little resentful that my husband can seem to sleep through all but the most ear-piercing shrieks while I jump at the faintest whimper. (I don't rush to the baby's side for the faintest whimpers; I just hear them and pay closer attention... which means I don't sleep.)

How did my mother handle this? Well, my grandmother was there to take care of me, for one, and for another, I slept through the night fairly early. My mother-in-law fed my husband cereal at two months so that he would sleep through the night. I'm not quite ready to go that route because (a) Dr W advised against it and (b) my husband has a number of tummy issues that I'd rather Baby C not experience.

Chris will be up in about 45 minutes, and I just put the boy down (again - the third time since I began writing this post). We'll see how he does. I'm hoping he sleeps for an hour, at least.

As for me, I have some crow to finish. But maybe I should save it for dinner tomorrow.

I love Baby C. He cracks me up. Since he's still not sleeping through the night (he still wakes up hungry every two to three hours) and hasn't quite started storing up his poops for one gigantic explosion one day (and he may not ever do it - not all babies do), it's inevitable that he will grunt and push and poop during one of his nighttime feedings.

Which means I have to change him. I can't very well let him sit in his own poop all night, even if it's for just a few hours.

So, after his 2:30 feeding (during which he grunted and pushed and pooped... loudly), it was time to change him. And all was fine, at first, since he tends to fall asleep while eating. I hurried to clean him up and get a new diaper on him, and I almost managed to finish without waking him. But just when I thought I was in the clear...

POP!

He opened his eyes wide and gave me an adorable toothless grin.

And, of course, when your baby smiles at you, you can't help but smile back.

Which then led to a smiling contest.

And it meant he was going to be wide awake for a while.

The end result is that he winds up sleeping in our bed about as much as he sleeps in his own. I can't play with him at 3 AM, his daddy can't play with him at 3 AM, and, quite frankly, no one should be awake at 3 AM!

One of these days he will sleep through the night, and he'll be in his own room the whole time. Until then, I'm going to treasure these late night/early morning moments with him as best as I can. After all, it comes with being a new parent. When else are bags under your eyes considered a badge of honor?

I don't know what I was dreaming about last night. I do know that the work week finally caught up with me and I was exhausted. So, last night around 12:30, when Baby C started to cry, I sat up looked around frantically, then asked my husband, "Where is the baby's head?"

"Isn't it in the crib?" he asked.

Then I snapped back to reality and all made sense again. And sure enough, the baby's head was in the crib, attached to the rest of him.