To Sleep, Perchance to Dream...

One of the most difficult things about surviving life with small children is the sleep deprivation. All other newborn/infant/toddler unpleasantries are infinitely more tolerable with more than a few hours of consecutive sleep. Diaper explosion to quasi-well-rested mommmy? No biggie. Comical even. Same degree of poop contamination to sleep deprived mommy? Meltdown of monumental, tears flowing, teeth-gnashing, and otherwise epic proportions.

I made the mistake of declaring victory prematurely on the nighttime sleep of our secondborn. Apparently I thought we had won the Parenting Game. Not only did I say it, I actually put it in writing for the world to see (and subsequently scoff at my naivete). Audacious was my claim in a prior post that Elise was sleeping 8 hours or so at night. Even more audacious was the follow-up statement that requested an even later wakeup call. Oh, the ingratitude. Ingratitude which has been rewarded with a 4.5 month old who wakes up approximately every 1-2 hours and will not go back to sleep unless I feed her. Occasionally I accumulate a decent total number of slumbering hours, just broken into painfully short chunks.

There are two main aspects of the sleep deprivation issue that are particularly exasperating (aside from the actual inability of my brain to function without my beloved 8 hour consecutive trip to dreamland). First is the disconcerting feeling of not-knowing-when-this-will-end. This is true both in the micro sense: will she EVER go back to sleep or will I EVER be able to fall asleep before she wakes up again?) and in the macro sense: will I EVER get a full night's sleep?). In that state of utter sleep-deprived despair, the current situation seems infinite. If someone told me I just had to tough it out for a few weeks, or even months, it would be so much easier. I can do anything with a definable end in sight. But you better believe there would be a giant countdown calendar involved somewhere...

The other particularly maddening aspect for me is my innate need to Figure. Things. Out. Elise isn't sleeping throught the night; there must be some physiologic reason why this is the case, and thus a concrete solution or combination of solutions that I can do to fix the problem. Maybe I just need to swaddle her more/less. Maybe she's not eating enough/too much during the day. Maybe she's too hot/cold. Maybe if I just put her to bed a few minutes earlier/later. Maybe if I sing Goodnight Sweetheart instead of You Are My Sunshine. Seriously, these thoughts use up perfectly good neuronal space in my brain. I'm well aware that she is just a baby-- and a young one at that-- and not sleeping is just what they do. There probably isn't a magical recipe that I can concoct to make things any different. But part of me still believes that if I just think about it hard enough, I'll figure it out. Especially since she was sleeping so much better in the past. She has proved to me she CAN do it!

After several weeks of frustration and feeling like a failure in the get-your-baby-to-sleep department, I have adopted a new strategy. And by new I mean Day 1. We'll see how it goes. I'm going to (try to) accept the fact that things are what they are. For whatever reason right now, E2 needs me to wake up with her many many times during the night. She will only be little for a short time, and if I can view these late night bonding sessions as time to snuggle my precious little one-- fleeting moments to be cherished. Before I know it, she won't fit in my lap anymore, and probably even before that she won't sit still long enough to be cuddled. So for now, I am going to adopt this new perspective when I hear the all-too-frequent nighttime stirring. It won't be forever that her favorite thing in the world will be spending time with Mommy (ok, ok and some milk). Instead of grumbling, muttering pseudo-obscenities, or sighing in exasperation as I roll out of bed, I'm going to remind myself of that.

 But if you run into me during the day, don't expect me not to be a little grumpy. Or red- and baggy-eyed. Or vaguely coherent. Or well-groomed. Or groomed at all...