Last night was a particularly bullshit night. Today I feel that old bone weary tiredness I used to live with daily. It seriously f#%^ing hurts.
Last night, I said, ‘I can’t do this!’. ‘What’s wrong with your kid?’ I asked my husband. ‘I’m so over this. Just go the f#%^ to sleep.’ I told my poor baby.
I felt so very sorry for myself and had all the, ‘you’ve done this to yourself, Carly.’ thoughts that featured so heavily with my first.
Last night, my 11 month old seriously struggled with sleep. He was restless and unhappy. From 12-3, he could not settle. He wasn’t playing but he wasn’t asleep. He was sitting up, crawling around, moaning, on the boob, off the boob, on my chest, off my chest, on his side, on his back, sitting back up … rinse and repeat.
Nothing was working. Nothing seemed to help. Panadol, cuddles, boob, cuddles, boob, cuddles, boob, different position. Rinse and repeat.
I was SOOOOOOO ridiculously over it. I was tired. I was out of ideas. He still couldn’t settle.
My husband took over for a little while so I could be untouched briefly.
He still couldn’t settle.
I took back over and after more of the same, he eventually flopped onto my chest one last time and slept. He slept and I slept.
A couple of more wakings before dawn, but some boob and he was back to sleep.
He woke cranky. Still tired.
I woke cranky with sore nipples from his restless, rough nursing through the night. Still tired.
My husband took him while he got ready for work and I got 20 minutes to myself.
It was heavenly.
It was all I needed to reset a little.
I came out to the day, still bone achingly tired but with a clearer head. I had time to feel sorry for myself but also time to reflect on just how hard my poor baby struggled last night. He was a mess. He needed me SOOOOO much. I couldn’t seem to fix whatever it was that was making him unsettled but I was there for him. I had his back. I may have grumbled and grouched but I was there for my little human who was having so much trouble in the night.
I was there for him when he woke. I was there through his struggle and I was there when he finally found relief and sleep.
I was there for him.
He won’t always need me as intensely as he did last night. I may never know exactly why he struggled so much on this occasion but I will forever know that my very presence meant that he got through it with support, with trust and with love.
I spent the night just wishing for morning. I hated the night one more time. He’s not even Wonder Weeking, this is meant to be our ‘sunny’ time. Nights like this bring out all of my insecurities and doubts.
But, I will never get that time with my little man again. It is one less time he will find comfort in my arms or at my breast. It is one less time he will NEED me so.
The bullshit nights are hard but I truly believe they also lay the foundation for our relationship with our babies for the rest of their lives.
Hang in there tired mamas x
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