The most amazing thing happened after the night I fell asleep to M's crying...
The next night she was up in the middle of the night again, getting more and more wound up wanting to play. After 1.5 hours of this, around 2am, I sat her down in her crib, kissed her forehead and told her that it was time to go to sleep, She fussed, but not very sincerely, for 3 minutes. She then laid down and cooed at her stuffed froggy for about an hour and then fell asleep.
The next night she was getting all hyper as I was trying to put her to bed, so I tried the same thing. Literally sat her in her crib upright (she was too awake to lay down), kissed her forehead and wished her a good night. You know what? she fussed for about 10 seconds as I walked out the room but then went to sleep. It has been like that every night since. This weekend I tried it with naps. It worked! She was still awake, I kissed her forehead and said "sweet dreams" and walked out of the room. After a few seconds of half-hearted protest she quietly coos at her toys or goes right to sleep. And then when she wakes up she just hangs out cooing at her toys. I have gone in to "wake" her up every time...
Crazy. Seriously weirds me out. But man, oh, man, is this wonderful!
I feel so incredibly fortunate that we seem to have gotten here with very very minimal crying-it-out pain.
Now, anyone have tips on how to get her to not wake up at 1am, 3am, and 5am? me is so, so, so, tired.
BTW, that letter of rec is done and I am now starting to read one of those dissertations...
Showing posts with label crying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crying. Show all posts
Monday, December 5, 2011
Saturday, May 7, 2011
last night I cried
Thank you all for the commiseration on my last post. It means so much to know this is all normal and I am not alone. Dh tried a little harder this morning. Granted he then left for work in the afternoon and won't come home until after we are all in bed, but baby steps are better than nothing.
Yesterday we went to check out the early child development center at our university to see if we want to enroll M. I had submitted an application a couple of weeks ago assuming we'd never get in because they take so few children and so many people want in. Unbelievably we got offered a spot.
It was amazing. M won't ever want to come home. All the teachers are trained in child development, all the furniture and toys are kid-size and cool, it is a really environmentally friendly building, the teachers/care takers in the infant & toddler rooms even hang out on their knees so as to be at kid level (we are all equals...) M will be able to stay in the program through preschool, so I basically have full time childcare set up for the next five years. And the cincher? It is three blocks away from my office.
But for some reason I was incredibly saddened by it all. I just know that August will roll around here very soon and I'll be confronted with taking M to this place and, oh my, leaving her there. I hope I am more ready for it when the time comes than I am right now.
I got home in the late afternoon and chit-chatted with the nanny who watched M today (as she does every wedesnday and friday). I really enjoy talking so much about the minutia of M with her as she is all into it too, unlike anyone else I know. I sat down to nurse M as the nanny straightened up M's room before leaving. She then started talking about one of the baby books she was reading to M and how M really liked this one page... I have read to M some but not those little baby books. I instantly felt terrible. I have tried to have an evening routine that includes a bath, baby massage, nursing & some bedtime reading. But I figured more grown up books would be ok for now since she doesn't know what I am saying.
To add insult to the injury of my guilt, wed and thur night M was pretty stressed out so all I did was hold her and calm her down. Wednesday night I even skipped PJ's because she was so upset when I changed her diaper, so I skipped the clothes and just swaddled her.
The nanny then left and I nursed and held M for a couple of hours. And I cried. Bawled, actually. I love this little girl so much but I am afraid that isn't enough. I am afriad that I am a terrible mother. M deserves the best. She is perfect right now and I hate that I will screw her up.
Today I feel a little better. My house doesn't need to be romper room. M needs to see regular life too, how adults interact and how big furniture really is. I guess it is ok if some of M's world isn't tailor made for her. Maybe my love will be enough to fulfill my role as the navigator, and I am not suposed to be her everything.
I don't know. I really don't. I just hope my best is good enough.
Yesterday we went to check out the early child development center at our university to see if we want to enroll M. I had submitted an application a couple of weeks ago assuming we'd never get in because they take so few children and so many people want in. Unbelievably we got offered a spot.
It was amazing. M won't ever want to come home. All the teachers are trained in child development, all the furniture and toys are kid-size and cool, it is a really environmentally friendly building, the teachers/care takers in the infant & toddler rooms even hang out on their knees so as to be at kid level (we are all equals...) M will be able to stay in the program through preschool, so I basically have full time childcare set up for the next five years. And the cincher? It is three blocks away from my office.
But for some reason I was incredibly saddened by it all. I just know that August will roll around here very soon and I'll be confronted with taking M to this place and, oh my, leaving her there. I hope I am more ready for it when the time comes than I am right now.
I got home in the late afternoon and chit-chatted with the nanny who watched M today (as she does every wedesnday and friday). I really enjoy talking so much about the minutia of M with her as she is all into it too, unlike anyone else I know. I sat down to nurse M as the nanny straightened up M's room before leaving. She then started talking about one of the baby books she was reading to M and how M really liked this one page... I have read to M some but not those little baby books. I instantly felt terrible. I have tried to have an evening routine that includes a bath, baby massage, nursing & some bedtime reading. But I figured more grown up books would be ok for now since she doesn't know what I am saying.
To add insult to the injury of my guilt, wed and thur night M was pretty stressed out so all I did was hold her and calm her down. Wednesday night I even skipped PJ's because she was so upset when I changed her diaper, so I skipped the clothes and just swaddled her.
The nanny then left and I nursed and held M for a couple of hours. And I cried. Bawled, actually. I love this little girl so much but I am afraid that isn't enough. I am afriad that I am a terrible mother. M deserves the best. She is perfect right now and I hate that I will screw her up.
Today I feel a little better. My house doesn't need to be romper room. M needs to see regular life too, how adults interact and how big furniture really is. I guess it is ok if some of M's world isn't tailor made for her. Maybe my love will be enough to fulfill my role as the navigator, and I am not suposed to be her everything.
I don't know. I really don't. I just hope my best is good enough.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Watching M
My husband had to watch little M on his own twice this week for the first time. There were two things that happened at school that I absolutely couldn't miss. It meant that I needed to be out for out 4 hours each time, and M would need a bottle.
The first one didn't go well but Dh was sort of able to laugh about it. He was able to feed M from a bottle despite some serious issues and was overall satisfied with himself.
The second time was terrible. I got home tonight to a naked baby laying in her crib happy to see me, the changing table pad off, baby clothes all over the place, a half-drunk bottle nearby, and Dh frazzed in the dining room. At first I started joking about the scene of the frat party, but Dh was nowhere near a laughing mood.
I am not entirely sure what happened but M clearly lost it. To me this is obviously because she was exhausted and overstimulated. She had been up for an hour by the time we did the switch over between parents. I had fed and changed her, so of course she'd been up a while. I strongly advised that he get her to take a nap. I have a feeling that he assumed she would put herself to sleep when she was tired despite my telling him that he'd have to lull her to sleep.
As you all know, babies don't always know that they need to sleep. They just know that something isn't right so they start to get fussy. M is like this especially in the afternoons. You have to coax her to sleep for her afternoon nap(s).
By the time I got home she'd been awake for 5.5 hours and crying hysterically for the last 4 of those.
Dh gets pissed off and frustrated pretty easily. And the bad mood can last quite a while. He just went to bed in a really bad mood.
I feel terrible. Most of the reasons I feel terrible are irrational.
1) I feel guilty like I was somehow supposed to teach him how to feed her from a bottle. But, for one, I don't actually know. I've never fed her from a bottle. And two, he never asked me how. I intentionally didn't tell him because I didn't want him to think I didn't trust his ability to figure it out. He is sensitive to when it seems like I don't trust him or if I am being "bossy" and won't let him do things his own way. But then it sounded like he thought I was a bad mother to leave my baby in the hands of her father without explicit instructions.
Was I supposed to lecture him on how to not stimulate M? I have repeatedly but gently mentioned that he needs to be able to not always play with her, that she gets overstimulated and needs to sleep. How hard is it to sit quietly holding a baby in the rocking chair and not play with her? Do I need to give instructions on this? Seems self-explanatory to me, and it isn't like he hasn't seen me sitting in the green glider we got on Craig's list for hours and hours quietly holding a sleeping M. Get a clue.
2) I feel like the IF experience and all the shit we went through to get out of IF Land was me pushing really hard for something I want and not necessarily something that he really wanted. I worry that he is mad at me for pushing him into something he now thinks is awful. He says this is not the case at all, but I can't help but feel this way, to worry.
3) I don't understand why he doesn't see that M and I get along so well because we have been essentially inseparable since she was born. She cries and freaks out with me, but I was forced pretty early on to figure out ways to console her, what she needs and when. She still cries with me, but I am usually pretty good at eventually calming her down and solving her issue. Dh, he doesn't have anywhere near that kind of level of experience. He and M have to work it out and find a way to communicate. Or rather, Dh needs to figure this out. M's only job is to eat, poop and grow. After this afternoon he said that babies only like their mothers, that M just doesn't like him. I don't quite get why he doesn't see that this isn't true. She's just much more used to me. It actually has nothing to do with my being her mother, other than that it is usually the mother who spends so much time with the baby and does so very early on. We figure it out -- sink or swim. Dads don't often end up in this same situation. But if they do, they find a rhythm that works too. The only unfair advantage I have is that I make milk. But I do leave lots of bottles of the stuff for him.
I guess they will work it out eventually, but I wish that he would try harder. I wish that he'd ask for help and advice, and I really wish he'd listen to me. It's almost as if he thinks that if baby harmony doesn't come immediately and easily then it isn't meant to be. He has been like this with our relationship too. I have spent an inordinate amount of time and emotional energy convincing him that marriages are work and require maintenance. Once you fall in love you have to work to stay in love. You can't just ignore each other for 10 years and assume that if it is meant to be that you'll still be crazy about each other.
The first one didn't go well but Dh was sort of able to laugh about it. He was able to feed M from a bottle despite some serious issues and was overall satisfied with himself.
The second time was terrible. I got home tonight to a naked baby laying in her crib happy to see me, the changing table pad off, baby clothes all over the place, a half-drunk bottle nearby, and Dh frazzed in the dining room. At first I started joking about the scene of the frat party, but Dh was nowhere near a laughing mood.
I am not entirely sure what happened but M clearly lost it. To me this is obviously because she was exhausted and overstimulated. She had been up for an hour by the time we did the switch over between parents. I had fed and changed her, so of course she'd been up a while. I strongly advised that he get her to take a nap. I have a feeling that he assumed she would put herself to sleep when she was tired despite my telling him that he'd have to lull her to sleep.
As you all know, babies don't always know that they need to sleep. They just know that something isn't right so they start to get fussy. M is like this especially in the afternoons. You have to coax her to sleep for her afternoon nap(s).
By the time I got home she'd been awake for 5.5 hours and crying hysterically for the last 4 of those.
Dh gets pissed off and frustrated pretty easily. And the bad mood can last quite a while. He just went to bed in a really bad mood.
I feel terrible. Most of the reasons I feel terrible are irrational.
1) I feel guilty like I was somehow supposed to teach him how to feed her from a bottle. But, for one, I don't actually know. I've never fed her from a bottle. And two, he never asked me how. I intentionally didn't tell him because I didn't want him to think I didn't trust his ability to figure it out. He is sensitive to when it seems like I don't trust him or if I am being "bossy" and won't let him do things his own way. But then it sounded like he thought I was a bad mother to leave my baby in the hands of her father without explicit instructions.
Was I supposed to lecture him on how to not stimulate M? I have repeatedly but gently mentioned that he needs to be able to not always play with her, that she gets overstimulated and needs to sleep. How hard is it to sit quietly holding a baby in the rocking chair and not play with her? Do I need to give instructions on this? Seems self-explanatory to me, and it isn't like he hasn't seen me sitting in the green glider we got on Craig's list for hours and hours quietly holding a sleeping M. Get a clue.
2) I feel like the IF experience and all the shit we went through to get out of IF Land was me pushing really hard for something I want and not necessarily something that he really wanted. I worry that he is mad at me for pushing him into something he now thinks is awful. He says this is not the case at all, but I can't help but feel this way, to worry.
3) I don't understand why he doesn't see that M and I get along so well because we have been essentially inseparable since she was born. She cries and freaks out with me, but I was forced pretty early on to figure out ways to console her, what she needs and when. She still cries with me, but I am usually pretty good at eventually calming her down and solving her issue. Dh, he doesn't have anywhere near that kind of level of experience. He and M have to work it out and find a way to communicate. Or rather, Dh needs to figure this out. M's only job is to eat, poop and grow. After this afternoon he said that babies only like their mothers, that M just doesn't like him. I don't quite get why he doesn't see that this isn't true. She's just much more used to me. It actually has nothing to do with my being her mother, other than that it is usually the mother who spends so much time with the baby and does so very early on. We figure it out -- sink or swim. Dads don't often end up in this same situation. But if they do, they find a rhythm that works too. The only unfair advantage I have is that I make milk. But I do leave lots of bottles of the stuff for him.
I guess they will work it out eventually, but I wish that he would try harder. I wish that he'd ask for help and advice, and I really wish he'd listen to me. It's almost as if he thinks that if baby harmony doesn't come immediately and easily then it isn't meant to be. He has been like this with our relationship too. I have spent an inordinate amount of time and emotional energy convincing him that marriages are work and require maintenance. Once you fall in love you have to work to stay in love. You can't just ignore each other for 10 years and assume that if it is meant to be that you'll still be crazy about each other.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
making contact
M and I are home alone for a few hours while Dh and MIL go to the bank to take care of some of the business of death. It is probably the longest I have been alone with M since she was born and it is really nice. I think we needed some mommy-baby time.
M was laying on the floor on a blanket with a toy on either side for her to check out. At one point I heard all sorts of grunting and heavy breathng. M had managed to get on her side and was reaching out her hand far enough to touch her bunny rabbit. I was so impressed and proud that I started crying! She's too young to have this kind of control and it was likely a fluke that it worked out for her, but still...
I am such a goof ball. I had no idea I would cry over things like that! Hormones are crazy things.
M was laying on the floor on a blanket with a toy on either side for her to check out. At one point I heard all sorts of grunting and heavy breathng. M had managed to get on her side and was reaching out her hand far enough to touch her bunny rabbit. I was so impressed and proud that I started crying! She's too young to have this kind of control and it was likely a fluke that it worked out for her, but still...
I am such a goof ball. I had no idea I would cry over things like that! Hormones are crazy things.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Getting emotional
I have heard many stories about the emotional rollercoaster of pregnancy but haven't really experienced it myself so far. Mostly I have the numb self-preservation thing going on. But that all changed last night.
I was changing into my PJs and Dh commented on how red my breasts and upper belly are. And they are. Under my breasts is really uncomfortable and kind of rashy from my bra (any bra). As I mentioned before, my breasts are large and very heavy so supporting them is tough work for my bras and for me.
Dh then proceeded to interrogate me on whether or not I had done research to figure out adequate support, almost accusing me of malpractice when he asked if I went to a maternity store to get my new bra and I replied that I had gone to a bra specialty store (that had a gazillion maternity bras, so I think it was the appropriate place to go).
The point of all of this build-up is that somehow this serious conversation lead to Dh saying that he had known that my belly would get bigger but he was truly frightened by what was going on with my breasts.
Think back to this post in which I admitted my breast self-consciousness.
Honestly, I don't care what I look like. I would have loved to be one of those thin women who get the pretty round belly and stay thin everywhere else. But what I really, really want is a child. A cute pregnancy would have just been a perk. And given that each of my breasts is now about the same size as my belly, I have the Venus of Willendorf thing going on in the front instead of "cute." But honestly, it doesn't matter. This is what my body does and as long as it takes good care of my baby and brings her into the world safely it can do whatever the hell it wants.
I was kind of appreciating the fertility goddess look and was assuming that maybe Dh was too, although he had made comments about how it is ok since I am pregnant and he'll be my personal trainer once the baby gets here.
When I woke up at 3am and couldn't go back to sleep I started to get a little upset. I went to the living room and googled more about bras for pregnant 32G women.
Dh woke up and came in to talk, and of course talking about it all just made me cry like a leaky faucet. I hadn't realized how upset I was. I really don't care what I look like but I do care that my husband may be permanently scarred by seeing my body do all of these weird things. He doesn't seem to understand exactly what I'm upset about. He kept saying that all pregnant women get insecure about what their bodies look like, but that isn't what this is about at all.
I'm not really even all that upset about his comments, but I couldn't stop the tears from flowing from my eyes. I tried to tell him that he wasn't hearing what I was saying, that I really love being pregnant and don't care about what I look like. But the words just made me cry more so it was really hard. And then he said that he was really happy to hear that I love being pregnant as I hadn't said that before. And that made me even more sad, and I'm crying as I type this just thinking about it all.
I think it comes down to this. I am afraid to say how much I love it and how happy I am, and I'm afraid to wear clothes that make me look pregnant instead of just large because then people will know. If I end up without a baby at the end of this everyone will know. I won't be able to fake not caring about having a baby; I won't be able to pretend that I never wanted one.
Anyway, that was my incoherent emotional bout that isn't quite over. It started with a royally bad mood when I woke up yesterday and ends with a very teary InBetween who is having a hard time keep it together today, although I honestly have no idea why.
I was changing into my PJs and Dh commented on how red my breasts and upper belly are. And they are. Under my breasts is really uncomfortable and kind of rashy from my bra (any bra). As I mentioned before, my breasts are large and very heavy so supporting them is tough work for my bras and for me.
Dh then proceeded to interrogate me on whether or not I had done research to figure out adequate support, almost accusing me of malpractice when he asked if I went to a maternity store to get my new bra and I replied that I had gone to a bra specialty store (that had a gazillion maternity bras, so I think it was the appropriate place to go).
The point of all of this build-up is that somehow this serious conversation lead to Dh saying that he had known that my belly would get bigger but he was truly frightened by what was going on with my breasts.
Think back to this post in which I admitted my breast self-consciousness.
Honestly, I don't care what I look like. I would have loved to be one of those thin women who get the pretty round belly and stay thin everywhere else. But what I really, really want is a child. A cute pregnancy would have just been a perk. And given that each of my breasts is now about the same size as my belly, I have the Venus of Willendorf thing going on in the front instead of "cute." But honestly, it doesn't matter. This is what my body does and as long as it takes good care of my baby and brings her into the world safely it can do whatever the hell it wants.
I was kind of appreciating the fertility goddess look and was assuming that maybe Dh was too, although he had made comments about how it is ok since I am pregnant and he'll be my personal trainer once the baby gets here.
When I woke up at 3am and couldn't go back to sleep I started to get a little upset. I went to the living room and googled more about bras for pregnant 32G women.
Dh woke up and came in to talk, and of course talking about it all just made me cry like a leaky faucet. I hadn't realized how upset I was. I really don't care what I look like but I do care that my husband may be permanently scarred by seeing my body do all of these weird things. He doesn't seem to understand exactly what I'm upset about. He kept saying that all pregnant women get insecure about what their bodies look like, but that isn't what this is about at all.
I'm not really even all that upset about his comments, but I couldn't stop the tears from flowing from my eyes. I tried to tell him that he wasn't hearing what I was saying, that I really love being pregnant and don't care about what I look like. But the words just made me cry more so it was really hard. And then he said that he was really happy to hear that I love being pregnant as I hadn't said that before. And that made me even more sad, and I'm crying as I type this just thinking about it all.
I think it comes down to this. I am afraid to say how much I love it and how happy I am, and I'm afraid to wear clothes that make me look pregnant instead of just large because then people will know. If I end up without a baby at the end of this everyone will know. I won't be able to fake not caring about having a baby; I won't be able to pretend that I never wanted one.
Anyway, that was my incoherent emotional bout that isn't quite over. It started with a royally bad mood when I woke up yesterday and ends with a very teary InBetween who is having a hard time keep it together today, although I honestly have no idea why.
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