The Beloved Spoon
We’ve simultaneously turned a corner and backtracked dramatically this week. On the bright side, Lucia now loves rice cereal, and she’s suddenly a pro at eating from a spoon. We took a week or so off from solids and started up again when we got back from San Francisco—and it was a completely different story this time. Lucia now opens her mouth like a little bird as she anticipates the spoon, and she does a happy little wiggle whenever she’s ready for another bite. She does spit out a little cereal as she works to swallow it, but not much, and she’s been finishing every serving I prepare for her. And (knockknockknockknockknockknock on wood) she’s been a stellar nurser. As far as eating goes, we have a model baby.
Not so for sleeping. Lucia has now reverted to newborn-style sleep, waking up every hour or two all night and crying inconsolably. Andrew and I are zombies, unsure what to do and horrified at the prospect of having to do anything except comfort her when she’s upset. At the same time, we realize this cannot go on. We are nearing collapse. And yesterday morning Andrew got into Vern to go to work and the car wouldn’t start—dead battery. I could have used a sister-wife yesterday, someone to hold the baby while I dealt with AAA. And another sister-wife to do my editing so I could take a nap.
It’s a good thing Andrew and I are the couple we are—supportive, collaborative, patient with each other, sensitive. Because at times like this, when we are just so tired, when the baby refuses to sleep, when our evenings together are nonexistent since I’m dead on my feet by 8:30pm, I can see very clearly why new parents’ relationships get stressed—this kind of exhaustion would highlight and widen all the cracks. But we remain a team through it all. Even through this fog of sleeplessness I feel so very lucky to have Andrew.
Not so for sleeping. Lucia has now reverted to newborn-style sleep, waking up every hour or two all night and crying inconsolably. Andrew and I are zombies, unsure what to do and horrified at the prospect of having to do anything except comfort her when she’s upset. At the same time, we realize this cannot go on. We are nearing collapse. And yesterday morning Andrew got into Vern to go to work and the car wouldn’t start—dead battery. I could have used a sister-wife yesterday, someone to hold the baby while I dealt with AAA. And another sister-wife to do my editing so I could take a nap.
It’s a good thing Andrew and I are the couple we are—supportive, collaborative, patient with each other, sensitive. Because at times like this, when we are just so tired, when the baby refuses to sleep, when our evenings together are nonexistent since I’m dead on my feet by 8:30pm, I can see very clearly why new parents’ relationships get stressed—this kind of exhaustion would highlight and widen all the cracks. But we remain a team through it all. Even through this fog of sleeplessness I feel so very lucky to have Andrew.
Comments
and ah, sleep. sorry you are going through a rough patch! the first year is so wicked! have you seen this article? http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/03/14/night-lights-blankets-and-lullabies/
it's just a nice change of pace, i think, from always hearing "what, she doesn't sleep through the night YET?!" and feeling like everyone is judging you and you MUST be doing something wrong blahblahblah. sleep is just really tough the first year and sometimes the first two. i hope that lucia starts sleeping better for you two soon -- sleep deprivation for mama and papa is so tough :( maybe she's teething? we always blamed the teeth around here :) or maybe she's just adjusting to being back home after your awesome trip? or maybe who knows because babies are CRAZY! hang in there :)
*HUGS*