(Foreword: Allow me to preface this post with the expression of my utter admiration for all the mothers doing it alone. I have no idea how you do it or where you find the strength. I know I have been whining a lot of about sleep. My excuse is that it's my first baby and in my normal life, I like to be in control. It also helps me to put my thoughts into words to get them out of my system. If you're OK with that, then read on...)
... And two steps back. Some days, that's how having a baby feels like.
A few nights ago, Hugo had one of his best nights yet. He didn't stir from 12 to 6:30 am and neither did we. I woke up to the sweet sound of silence and saw light streaming through the blinds. Elated, I woke Chris up to share my excitement. We had done it, we had conquered the big bad monster that lurks under every cot! No more sleepless nights for us!
It's possible that my reaction wasn't quite as measured as it should have been. Of course I knew we hadn't arrived in Slumberland but I wasn't about to let realism get in the way of this small blissful victory. It had happened once and I figured it would happen again. I guess I was hoping it would happen again that very night and the ones after that...
Fast forward a few days, a blocked milk duct and a course of antibiotics later, Hugo has had one of his worst nights yet. It didn't help that Chris was away this week-end for his grand-father's funeral. I started the week-end full of Super Mummy resolve. Patience would be my middle name and I would totally rock it, giving Chris the space and independence to be a son and a grand-son, rather than a husband and a father. Come Monday morning, I was covered in curdled milk and desperate to be the one to be rocked and patted to sleep.
I am not sure where things went wrong on Sunday night. The week-end had become a chance to experiment with a new napping system based on a baby's natural 90 minutes cycle. It was working out brilliantly with Hugo being a breeze to get to sleep throughout the day. I was actually congratulating myself on how in control and in tune with my baby I was. Ha! If I wasn't so sleepy as I write this, I might actually laugh at myself.
I am aware of how deluded it sounds to suggest being in control of Hugo's sleep. To expect him to sleep like I would like him to is about as realistic as expecting him to cook me dinner. Even if I am ready, he isn't. So for the time being, I'll keep enjoying the easy days and easy nights and when things don't go according to plan, I'll just put one foot in front of the other until we do reach Slumberland. We'll get there, we just can't quite see it yet...
... And two steps back. Some days, that's how having a baby feels like.
A few nights ago, Hugo had one of his best nights yet. He didn't stir from 12 to 6:30 am and neither did we. I woke up to the sweet sound of silence and saw light streaming through the blinds. Elated, I woke Chris up to share my excitement. We had done it, we had conquered the big bad monster that lurks under every cot! No more sleepless nights for us!
It's possible that my reaction wasn't quite as measured as it should have been. Of course I knew we hadn't arrived in Slumberland but I wasn't about to let realism get in the way of this small blissful victory. It had happened once and I figured it would happen again. I guess I was hoping it would happen again that very night and the ones after that...
Fast forward a few days, a blocked milk duct and a course of antibiotics later, Hugo has had one of his worst nights yet. It didn't help that Chris was away this week-end for his grand-father's funeral. I started the week-end full of Super Mummy resolve. Patience would be my middle name and I would totally rock it, giving Chris the space and independence to be a son and a grand-son, rather than a husband and a father. Come Monday morning, I was covered in curdled milk and desperate to be the one to be rocked and patted to sleep.
I am not sure where things went wrong on Sunday night. The week-end had become a chance to experiment with a new napping system based on a baby's natural 90 minutes cycle. It was working out brilliantly with Hugo being a breeze to get to sleep throughout the day. I was actually congratulating myself on how in control and in tune with my baby I was. Ha! If I wasn't so sleepy as I write this, I might actually laugh at myself.
I am aware of how deluded it sounds to suggest being in control of Hugo's sleep. To expect him to sleep like I would like him to is about as realistic as expecting him to cook me dinner. Even if I am ready, he isn't. So for the time being, I'll keep enjoying the easy days and easy nights and when things don't go according to plan, I'll just put one foot in front of the other until we do reach Slumberland. We'll get there, we just can't quite see it yet...
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