Fletch isn't much of a crier. Yes, he lets it rip when he's hungry or tired, but I 100% get that. Hell, I've been known to crack it in a similar fashion when I'm hungry or tired. Maybe not quite as loudly or overtly or profoundly, but I definitely crack it. And people (mainly Phil) tend to know about it. So hungry, tired cries I can definitely handle. During the day, that is.
It's the crying at night that I'm not so good at dealing with. All in all, Fletch is pretty good and will often settle back down to sleep after a feed without much crying and after 10 minutes or so of grunting and cooing and kicking about. But there are times, only a few, when he's decided that actually he's not all that keen on going back to sleep and come to think of it damn you for making me try. It's then, in those moments, in the quiet, eery darkness that is night, pacing up and down the hallway, feeling so alone in an attempt to let your other bread-winning half sleep, holding your squirming, screaming, innocent, beautiful little baby that your world starts to fall apart. Which mine well and truly did the other night.
It's only really happened once or twice, which in the scheme of things, 6 weeks on, is pretty damn good. Sure, he cries at night but not really, truly crying. You know the crying I mean. The 'testing' crying.
The other night, I was plain exhausted. Up for what felt like hours for the second time that night, running on next to no sleep, trying to deal with the second vomit, the third change of clothes, the darkness, the endless darkness, when it all just felt like too much. Fletch and I shared our tears that night. Of course, we both eventually got to sleep and the memory of the night melted into oblivion the minute I saw his precious little face when we woke. But that moment, when you feel so helpless and guilty for not being able to soothe your baby's soul, does nothing short of tearing your heart apart.
I know how good we've got it, having only experienced this a few times, so I'm not remotely complaining. I'm just coming to appreciate that motherhood really tests you. Tests your strength, your resolve, your patience, your marriage, your heart.
And we've only just begun...
15 comments:
I know exactly what you mean and how you feel. Sometimes the nights do just seem endless and dark and lonely and like they are never going to end. Luckily they do and a new day is always there.
I'm like you and have been blessed with babies that aren't too bad at night, but 'those' moments are still tough to deal with. Just keep doing what you're doing, it sounds like you're managing brilliantly with it all. xx
Ooh- the memories flooding back.
Hard, hard times.
Lonely nights and endless hours - scared that I would drop off with him screaming in my arms.
Scared that deep down I kinda wanted to walk away from him when I just could. not. figute. it. out.
Of course, these memories are in the context of the best days of my life. Ever.
You really find your true strength in the lows.
Mums are so, so strong.
I hope there are not too many more nights like those for you.
:-) xx
I remember it well... especially with my first. bawling my eyes out, at about week 6.
JUST GO THE F$%^ TO SLEEP!
Now 6 years on, and now its
"GET THE F$%# UP! TIME FOR SCHOOL!"
:))
Oh Bridget, such beautiful honest words. I was right there with you in that hall way, singing, patting, shoosh shooshshhooooshhing and crying. Oh it's just the best and the hardest time in life. In equal measure.
may sleep come tonight!
xo em
p.s so laughing at debs comments above!
Oh honey, I completely relate to everything you had said here. I remember those nights only too well and they're full on and quite soul destroying. The dark does seem to taunt us Mama's in mysterious ways. Then sometimes first light can have the same impact... like a slap in the face after a night of no sleep!
It's fabulous that you can get these emotions out on the page so eloquently and beautifully. I only wish I had done the same when my boys were newborns... but then I hadn't discovered blogging back then.
Sounds like you're actually doing exceptionally well, keep going Mama xo
Those nights ... they're the ones I resented Dave more than I can even put into words.
They're the ones where I thought, this is never going to end! And I resented that Dave got to sleep while I paced, & I resented that he didn't even HEAR Max stir.
They don't. They don't have that hormone, that's what my midwife Aunty told me anyway.
Now Max sleeps 12-13 hours.
It gets better, but you seem so ... content anyway, even in your dark, hallway pacing nights.
Kudos to you mama!
What truly amazes me is how you can finish with such a positive spin at the end Bridget.
Never having been a Mummy to little babies I can't really add any advice but know that Deb's comment above is really true and I spat out my tea when I read it!
Wishing you a weekend of gentle cuddles, daytime snoozes and soaking in the smiles and giggles of your precious boy.
xx
PS: Thank you for joining in with the first POTM Club by the beach - you're a treasure.
Oh I how I remember those kind of nights! Now, 9 years into this parenting thing, my husband still marvels at how well I'm able to function on so little sleep. It's all part of being a mom. And, as you know, we wouldn't trade it for anything! Popping in from POTM club.
Oh Bridget, having had the 3 pixies in 3.5 years, these memories are only too recent and vivid for me still, although Sam is nearly 3! I really feel for you.
You feel absolutely certain that the night will never end. I used to have to convince myself that the world was still turning and that sunlight would appear at some point ☺.
We used to break the newborn phase into two parts. The first 6 weeks were the hardest as we all learnt on the job. Smiles started to appear about then which provided a little more encouragement. Then we made it through the next 6 weeks and by 12-14 weeks, they tended to settle down into some sort of 'routine'.
Mind you, I use that word advisedly. Please don't listen to those who tell you that your routine is wrong or compare yourself with the the mothers in your mothers' group. You know your own baby best. That's all you need to remember!
Nest of luck with it all. J x
Deb's got it right! I had a crier every night for a year - every single night. I have since met moms whose child cried through the night that exact same year - I wish we could have met at Starbucks at midnight to get through the rough patch :) Hang in there! I think the night criers turn out to be night owls when they grow up - my own little theory.
Oh, that little face! My son is one year old now, and the memories of his crying have faded somehow, there's so much coming all the time! But your situation is so familiar, all those lonely nights and days, not knowing how to help, what to do, and just generally wanting to go out and close the door. But there is a reward: the happy smile just for you :)We both wish you all the best! //Anna and Jan
I know when the time comes I will feel the same, exhausted, a tad exasperated, and overwhelmed....but right now I would take a crying baby...at home...in the middle of the night over anything. Even just seeing him in the middle of the night would be a start!
Oh, I hear you on this. There is no place more lonely in the world than a dark room with a crying baby at 4am. The rest of the world sleeps and you just feel the empty, aching loneliness of your new responsibilities. I hear you.
The burden of responsibility is almost unbearable during the wee, small hours. But bear it we do, again and again and again. Keeping watch. x
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