A very, very bad night. Katrina was restless and up time and again, so many times I lost track. I kept giving her the pacifier, but she'd often lose it, or spit it out, minutes after. At 5:30am, after the umpteenth time of putting the pacifier back, I turned on the light to look at her, to be greeted by bright little eyes and a big grin. Great. Then she wouldn't nurse, just looking up at me and smiling. But I wasn't smiling back, I was dog-tired after constant sleep interruption. And she was up.
I carried her out to the family room, intensely frustrated and fearful. I just can't go through what I did with Gabriel that first year again, I just can't. I was up so, so many times during the night with Gabriel, and really up, like pacing him around downstairs, for hours, sometimes multiple times in one night. Those are practically traumatic memories, and I can't bear facing more months of that again.
I didn't want her waking the rest of the house up, so I tried to keep her from crying, but she'd get too wiggly. I wasn't about to pace her around, so I actually took her out for a drive. Not with the intention of putting her to sleep, but rather just keeping her out of the house for a while before everyone else was up.
Then I took her upstairs and did some laundry folding until she got fussy, then nursed her. Futile, she still wasn't hungry and only nibbled me uncomfortably. I didn't have all her usual accoutrements -- including the pacifier -- so swaddled her in a towel. (All our linens are in a big unfolded heap on our bed, as I had to wash everything in the linen closet to eradicate the ubiquitous construction dust.) I lay down next to her and shh'd her and rubbed her belly. She kept making noise and darting her eyes around the room, but to my amazement, she eventually calmed down enough that she drifted off and fell asleep. Wow, I actually got her to sleep another way!
But the night had taken its toll on her too. Later in the morning, after the boys were gone with Dave to Gabriel's gymnastics, she gave me the longest stretch of sleep yet, about 3 hours, during which I was unconscious too. I was so, so tired, especially since I'm still coming off that illness. But I don't want to sleep until noon. I want to sleep during the night, and be up during the day. I'm funny that way.
I didn't go anywhere today, and barely even got dressed. Dave went to work this afternoon, and I zombied through motions of giving the boys lunch and putting Julian in for a nap. It was a quiet afternoon, and I gave the boys an early dinner. Katrina cooperated the rest of the day, being very cute and making all sorts of funny new sounds, and went to bed with no problem.
I don't get it. Neither the attachment-parenting nor Babywise methods have worked as advertised. Why do I have babies who only go backward in wakeups, starting around this age? I dread the night now, and dread being tired all day tomorrow too. And I can't be. Tomorrow is Gabriel's birthday party, and then I have to finish packing for Tucson.
Yes, this will pass, but looking ahead, it's a long, long road.