So, in 4 days my daughter will be a month old. Holy crap! It has been the longest and fastest month of my life. She has been a real champ, sleeping about 3-4 hours at a stretch each night....until last night...I am trying hard to get her used to sleeping in the co-sleeper and not on my chest or snuggled up to my breast every night but it is hard because she is such a snuggle bug and honestly, I hate hearing her cry. I thought I was the fucking ninja of sleep training the other night when I had swaddled her, turned on a little white noise and after about 3 min of fussing she was out like a light for 4.5hrs. I was all set for a repeat last night but nope. Ramona was not having ANY of that. She fussed and fussed and screamed a bit and fussed some more and then was up fussing every 45 min all night. It was brutal. By the time 8am rolled around I had the worst headache and I felt like I had spent the night in a cement mixer. The worst part was that she was still cranky and fussy. I would have given my left eye for her to coo and roll over, snuggle up and go to sleep on my chest. Nope. So, I went downstairs and nursed for a bit then ate the entire contents of the refrigerator and handed her off to my Dad who arrived last night. She snuggled up on his chest, cooed and fell asleep. I staggered back upstairs, spooned my snoring husband and fell asleep. I have no recollection of this but apparently about an hour and a half later I shook G awake and told him "You have had 6hrs of sleep. Get up and go take the baby"....Good man that he is he obliged. I slept for a bit longer and now I am blogging to you as she sleeps half facing out of the Moby wrap on my chest.
Becoming a mother is a transition. It started at birth I suppose for me but the more tangible transition began when I peed on that little stick...I had to make choices about booze, food, sleep, work, nail polish, providers, bras, diapers, clothes, decor....now I am making choices about sleeping, bathing, vaccinations, crying, doctors....ALL of it. I am the MOM. I don't want to sound like G doesn't have a say in things, he very much does and often is the generator of the best ideas. What I mean is that no longer is anyone leaving me a long detailed note of instructions on her preferences and routine. Sometimes I just wonder "what the hell should I do?" often times when I find myself stuck asking that question I call my own mother, because in spite of the fact that I have grown and given birth to a fully functioning, living breathing human being, sometimes I just need an adult.
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