…she’s got to stop crying and fall asleep. I’ll give her 10 minutes. After 5, I get up and put my hand on her back. Ah, there she goes. Tiptoe back to bed. She wakes up, madder than before. Screaming like she’ll never be happy again. But she always smiles in the morning.
At some point, my maternal gut becomes a detached observer. “I wonder how long she’ll actually keep this up.” “Wow, that’s a new level of crying I haven’t heard.” “Is she going to do this when she’s 10?” All these thoughts while I’m hiding my head under the comforter, just to muffle the crying from the crib 5 feet away. I’ll give her 10 minutes.
4 minutes go by. At some point, the babies in the Romanian orphanage stopped crying. Why do I always think of that? I get up and she immediately grows quiet. She just wants my hand on her back. But I’m tired, and at some point, I need to get some sleep. I tiptoe back to bed. She screams a few more minutes until Mike comes in and picks her up from her crib. “Do you want to sleep with her in the bed?” No. But yes.
I love the feel of her little body so warm next to mine. I love feeling her breathe, knowing she is exactly where she wants to be – next to me. She falls asleep immediately. If only it were this way all the time. There would be no struggle to figure out the best sleep situation for her – for all of us. If she would just be content to lie in between us and sleep, we’d all be happy. But at some point, she stops sleeping and just wants to nurse nonstop. And I’m at the point where I need to sleep. Even a couple hours at a time.