You forget.
Nature’s way, I imagine, of convincing you to procreate again.
You forget just how long the hours between 2 and 6 a.m. can feel. Only four hours – 240 minutes – and yet, the seconds tick by so slowly that you fear you may never see the sunrise again.
But it does come, slowly, each day. I watch the pink-red hue of the sky stretching over the cornfield from the guest room window and it reminds me that all things must, eventually, pass.
These weeks will pass. This time will end. If, like The Poo, Shaggy Boy begins to sleep through the night at eight weeks exactly (pleasepleasepleaseplease), I have about five weeks of sunrises to bear before I can once again fall asleep without waiting for the “guh guh guh” sound that signals my son’s hunger.
The long nights were managable, until Shaggy woke up late last week and The Terrible Reign Of Sir Fussy Von Fusserstien began.
It is a painfully familiar lament, and no one wants to hear it, least of all me.
But I am so very tired.
Last night the baby woke up at 12:30 a.m. and I didn’t close my eyes again until 6:15. My husband found me, face to face with the boy, on the sofa. I woke up to the sight of a very small nose two inches from my own, and a grumpy, furrowed little brow.
He is even sleeping fussy, when – and if – he sleeps.
The days are just as long; napping, so it seems, is so two weeks ago, and the child eats constantly. Had I breastfed, I would literally be tied to his body 24 hours a day. I know it is unpopular to say so, but bottle-feeding has, most likely, saved my sanity.
The thing is, I know even this difficult period will end. I know this is a finite stage, and that sooner or later my boy, my beautiful, complicated, fussy little dictator, will grow up.
He will go into his own room, in his crib. He will walk, following his sister around the house. He will talk, he will go to school, he will grow up and away and both my children will one day walk out the door with a backward glance and a grin.
I know the Reign Of Sir Fussy Von Fusserstien will be over before I know it.
And somehow, I know I will miss the sunrise.
Oh don’t worry, he’ll be back….in his teens. (Can you tell I am having a day?)
Those early weeks would be so utterly delightful if only the little darlings would let us sleep! It will pass but, for now, it’s hard to cope, isn’ it? I used to play a game with myself when I was up in the night with my newborns. I would do best-case-worst-case scenarios for how much sleep I could expect to get that night. It was the best-case scenarios that kept me going.
You know, this post has somehow reassured me. I gave birth (finally) to my daughter on the 4th of this month. It was …excruciating…because, for some reason, I decided to forgo common practice and do it naturally. OUCH.
Any woman, I am convinced, who says to you “I did it naturally, and I am SO glad I did! I was the most incredible experience ..”- is a (dare I say it) liar. LIAR Liar pants on fire : )
I would SO get the epidural, if I could do it retroactively. Anyway, our little cupcake is 4 weeks this coming Monday. And I too, am so so tired. I am breast-feeding, and it is constant, except that we’re (my husband and I) both students at a nice University instead of faculty, and I started classes two weeks after delivering her, because in general, professors aren’t really that understanding, and this is my senior year. Oh, and the scholarship money is sort-of necessary.
And I haven’t slept since delivering her. She is doing now what your Shaggy is- except twice now I have spent the entire night in the glider, simply because it just wasn’t worth it to try to lie down again. Oh, and the in-law’s insisted I co-sleep. They did this by delivering her to me so constantly at wee hours of the night those first days (even when she wasn’t fussy, awake, hungry-) that I gave up and kept her on. And now I’m too tired to wrestle her into sleeping in the crib.
And the homework- the papers, the photo assignments, the research, and all the readings, are being done pitifully if at all.
But I don’t have the foresight you do, and this stage seems endless. I am no where neeeeear beginning to heal, the breastfeeding is exhausting, and the classes on top of no sleep are enough to drive anyone insane.
And there are no lovely cornfields to gaze at here, just apartment buildings. So I am glad to hear it ends.
Thanks for the whisper of hope!
Mb
I remember those days. I as well had a wonderful baby girl first, who never fussed and was just a delight from the very beginning. And I too delivered a Fussy Von Fusserstein the second time around. Unlike you I did breastfeed, which attached my son to me for about 17 hours a day for 10 stratight weeks when he finally decided to show some mercy and allow me some space. Not much but some. And I would do it again, because the good times, the first coos, the first smiles make it all worth it and somehow magically erase the bad memories.
Yeah, I wrote it all down. The whole experience, and outside of the making the baby part, I wasn’t a fan and was a complete post partum depressive mess.
I love my kid. LOVE him. But there can be only one for me. I am in awe at the strength and patience of other parents who are able to handle multiples so beautifully. This includes you.
You’re doing great, Mrs. Chicken!
Ah, the sunrise! I never knew they could be so beautiful since I was never up that early. One good thing to look back on 3 months of very little sleep!
My second baby was born on the same day as your Shaggy. She is also like your boy these days and being a total dictator of the household only slightly upstaged by her total dictator of a 2-year-old brother. I threatened my husband with bodily harm just this morning after he awoke after a solid 8 hours of sleep and yet still in a grumpy mood. I had been waging a battle with the baby since 3 am. I am counting the hours/minutes until she sleeps through the night. Oh and I commend you for going straight to formula. I formula-fed my first. Vowed to BF this one. Lasted a few days and am now pumping exclusively. Ugh…a lot of work. If I weren’t so guilt-ridden by the BF propaganda I’d so be done with this right now. Anyway a long tirade from a lurker who certainly feels your pain!
Even though it will most likely be me in a few weeks, I feel for you. I hope he learns to love sleep soon.
Boys just need their mamas more…
…and babies do grow so fast. I’m already a little nostalgic for D’s newborn days.
I like the name. Evan was “Farty McTootle” for the longest time when he was an infant. Gassy, you know.
At least Shaggy’s babe #2 so you know the deal.
[...] Nights are a little harder than I thought they would be at this stage, but they’ve never been this bad. Breastfeeding was a huge disaster, as it was with our first child. But, apart from that, [...]
But he is sooooo beautiful! The most beautiful baby in the whole world! Isn’t it so much easier with our second and third babies, knowing that it’s all just a phase?
With the second child you know that this is a phase, even if it is difficult. I do hate, though, how when you are in it everyone wants to tell you it will be over so quick. Well, it sure doesn’t seem fast in the wee hours of the night/morning! And you have the added pressure of wanting to be somewhat coherent during the day for The Poo, vs. when she was a baby and you could doze off and she wouldn’t notice!
I know it’s not the PC thing to say, but from the second I started breastfeeding I was counting down the days till I could stop. I was determined to make it a year and with every passing week I was relieved to be one week closer to being done. We ended up making it to thirteen months and strangely then I didn’t want to let go. I loved the cuddling but it was amazing having my body back (of course, by then there was another child in my belly but you get the picture). Never feel like you have to apologize for your parenting decisions.
you never quite forget the cute though, hmm?
Yeah, you do forget. Until a mama of a newborn writes about it, and then it all comes rushing back in technicolor. I can FEEL the 3 a.m. in this post. Hard to remember that it does pass, and even harder to remember that you kind of miss it. Sort of. Okay, not really, but there was some sort of not-so-awfulness to it, even so. Hang in there. (As if you have any choice!)
You know that most babies go through a growth spurt at about 3 weeks, then again around 6 weeks, then 3 months. And, both of my children did this.
I can’t complain, my babies weren’t really difficult at all. Walker more so than Jace but that was our own fault for holding him all the time because we were in such awe of him.
But, if all proves to be true, he should leave the grumpy phase in a few days and you should have a few weeks of peace before the next growth spurt shows up.
Good luck and as you said…this too shall pass
It’s so true that we forget this stuff. I barely remember it, really.
This time will pass.
I thought of you and Shaggy when I was up at dawn today after a loooong night with my coughing toddler. Even in my bleary state, it was a gorgeous sunrise. Hope that you were sleeping, but, if you were not, that you could see some of its beauty, too.
Hello Mrs Chicken
You’re doing fine. This is only a testing phase to see how strong you are as a parent. Take this time to examine your feelings and to get ready for the next phase in your life. You love your daughter. Only you can determine the outcome in how you will raise your child. At the end of the day your love will be the solution to this testing time.
I know you don’t like cliches, but you always seem to tell me that where love resides, then your faith can move mountains.
Just know that there is alot of people who support you in every step of the way.
Love,
Cazza aka Chickidie
I feel your pain– I remember those weeks all too well.