You’ve been on the outside as long as you were on the inside. How in the world did that happen, Dom? I tell you, blinking is a dangerous business for a mom. It seems like entire lifetimes can pass in that fraction of a second.
Dear Little Man,
I’m sorry I’ve haven’t written you very much. I promise it’s not for lack of material. It’s exactly the opposite. You fill our lives with so much material, with so many stories, that I just don’t even know where to begin.
Here’s a start: sleep has been a little bit of a trial in the last several months. See, you have a lot of teeth. And you got those teeth at a pretty early age… as in still-solely-breast-feeding early.
Lots of new teeth + lots of nursing = lots of pain for mama
(Corey and I decided Nipples of Steel would be a good name for a rock band. Bah, ha ha ha! We crack each other up… mostly because it’s either laugh about it or cry real, ugly tears.)
So, unintentionally, I started feeding you less. Which means you needed to eat more often, OUCH! Which translated into feeding you less. Which means you ate more DOUBLE OUCH! Which means…you get the picture. Enter: the end of sleeping through the nights.
It’s just because you were so, dang hungry. And, I’m sorry about that. I really, really am. During that time, especially at night, I would feel so tired, so angry, so inadequate. You’d be latched and I’d be crying. Then I’d un-latch you and you’d be screaming and I’d be crying. And then we’d both cry.
You were just hungry, and I just felt like there was this insatiable, toothed mouth in the bassinet next to me.
Then Daddy would turn on the light, and we’d both blink. I’d see you and remember you’re a baby. Not a many-tooth-ed creature. My baby.
Somewhere between trying to nurse my baby again, and some lamaze breathing, we’d fall back asleep. And Daddy would turn off the light once more…
You’d repeat this every 2 hours or so. And I admit, not every 10PM, Midnight, 2AM, 4AM wake up ended so blissfully.
But sometimes it did.
Those are the wake ups that are worth remembering. Not the angry ones that ended in futile tears, but the ones where I turned on the light and recognized you for who you are: my baby. My son. The One who needs me, in a special, specific way. Right now.
My prayer is this: as you grow older, if (when?) we cause each other more frustration and tears, may there always be a light that I can turn on. A light that reminds me that you are my son, worthy of patience, and worthy of love.
Love you, in the Light and in the Dark,
P.S. Now that you’re nursing fine and eating ALL THE FOODS, you can start sleeping through the night again… you know, whenever you want. But soon, please? K.
I’m gonna go take a nap.
Dom’s stats at his 9 month visit:
Head- 19.5 ” (100%)
Weight- 25 lbs 9 oz (99%)
Length- 2′ 6″ (92%)
For comparison, here’s Lulu at 9 months. She only had 3 teeth! Including that adorable snaggle tooth! When I visit old posts, I’m often stuck there for an hour, just reliving some of those moments, and I’m so thankful to past-Caitlin for writing them down.
She must have know a thing or two about the mal effects of sleep deprivation on cute story retention…