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Some days I feel like I spend all my time building towers, only to have them knocked down.
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Right now we have been struggling with a 10-month old babe who, for some reason unbeknownst to us, is having trouble sleeping. For the past few weeks he has been waking an average of 4-6 times per night, needing something. Milk, diaper changes, snuggles, sling. We have exhausted our bag of tricks and we are still exhausted. Still struggling. Still searching for answers. Still coming up empty. A trip to the pediatrician, to rule out medical causes, is necessary I think.
The trouble with sleep, specifically infant sleep, is that it seems that everyone has an opinion about it and a strong one. Mentioning it, especially the lack of it, is bound to bring forth a slew of advice, some helpful, some interesting, some so-not. Sleep seems to be one of those polarizing topics and dealing with it, and helping your babe and family get more of it, should almost be on the list of things not to talk about in mixed company – religion, money, politics, sleep.
Where we stand. Well, like it or not, we jumped into this parenting gig with two feet. Ready to parent around the clock. If our babe has needs during the day we are eager to meet them, ready to offer food, nursing, a companion, a snuggle buddy, a friend, a playmate. The same is true after the sun has set. While we may not be quite so eager at 3am we are still there, ready to do what we can, to meet his needs in the best ways we know how. But, that’s just it, we don’t always know how, do we.
Last night, as I walked Ewan around in circles in the living room, hoping, desperately, that he would let go and succumb to slumber, I was doing some searches on the internet, trying to find answers to several weeks of sleep woes. After just a few minutes reading desperate message board postings, followed by countless responses advocating letting the baby cry-it-out, I put away my iphone needing to shut out that advice and focus on what was at stake here.
Sure, I wasn’t sleeping and I knew I would need an extra cup of coffee today, but I also knew that the advice I was finding, the purported magic bullet that had the potential to solve all of our struggles, isn’t for me. It isn’t for us (and it isn’t for others, as well).
Bring on the coffee. Bring on the naps and earlier bedtimes. I’ll gladly do that so that I can walk my babe around in circles at night, so that he doesn’t have to cry alone.
In the meantime, we’re seeing the doctor tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll find an answer, or we’ll find that this is just a phase, one that we know will pass. After all, it is a rare child that still needs to be walked in the sling when they go away to college.
