My bub is now 3 months old, and the sleep deprivation well & truly won the other day. I was sick, crying and ready to put both children on the floor of the living room while I ate my way through a double pack of oreos & large chicken crisps. I wanted to return my child to place of purchase and exchange it for one that works. This one is broken and does not sleep the way it said it would on the box.
I'm breastfeeding this little cherub, something that I wish I'd be able to do with my 1st born, but was unable to. I always felt I was missing out on something by not breastfeeding him and I have realised that I was in fact missing out on something.
FUCKING SLEEP.
The benefit to bottle feeding is that when you've had enough and think, you know what, I'd actually like to take a shit by myself for once or maybe get a solid block of sleep, you can handball that screaming little pink thing to a friend/Grandma/neighbour/random stranger who looks trustworthy, give them instructions on how much the bottle should be, and fuck off for an hour or two, without having to worry that your child's screams of hunger will be mistaken for an army of banshees raining the 7th level of hell down upon the world.
The other benefit is you know how much they've had exactly. No juggling the jubblies around thinking 'yeah it feels lighter, but he still looks hungry, is he hungry? Does he just want to suck for comfort? It's only been an hour, surely he can't be hungry again? Do I have milk? Is he hungry? He must be hungry?'
It's cruel really, to not only be responsible for a small human's life, but to have to do it sleep deprived, whilst they are literally sucking the life out of you. Making decisions while having the mental capacity of your drunk Uncle on Xmas day is not cool. So not cool man.
So the other night, as I looked at my husband sleeping soundly, over the hair of my wonderful little womb nugget that had been up every hour since 10pm, I thought...... fuck this.
Fuck. This.
So I woke that snoring fucker up and told him that I'd had enough and I handed him a screaming baby and I marched into the kitchen and I made a bottle of formula. And you know what happened? My gorgeous blue eyed cherub, wouldn't..... take.... the.... fucking.... bottle.
Anyway, long story short it turns out you can't survive on extended periods of 45 minute blocks of sleep AND look after a toddler AND not have a diet consisting of pure caffeine AND be like, completely sane or something. So the next day, I did what I'm sure every mum does or wishes they could do - I called my mum. She came over, let me lie down for a bit and then my husband and I came up with a plan of attack to get our little baby sleeping longer periods that didn't involve me leaving him in a cot to scream his heart out whilst ripping mine out. On a side note - how stupid are babies? They need to be taught how to sleep. Fuck me, if someone told me I got to sleep for over half the day, shit myself and have someone else clean it up whilst drinking from a bottle, I'd be all over that like Oprah on a baked ham.
But anyway, after almost a week of 'sleep training' he's up to 2 hours of sleep at a time now, but we've got him sleeping longer than 10 minute periods during the day too. The thing that sucks, is we did this all with the 1st one and I was so naive I thought we'd have this shit down pat. We do not. I keep thinking that I've got this mother hood thing down and they keep changing the rules. Kids are like the ultimate way to test control issues. I fail the test. Like, a lot. No seriously, A LOT.
But I'll be damned, if the little bugger looks up at me, with a big gummy grin, and I think to myself - I would do this every night for the rest of my life if it means he will grow up happy and healthy.
Ok, not every night. But like at least maybe 5 or 6 nights a week.
Cheers,
(A very sleep deprived) Qld Nurse.
Brilliant; as always!!!
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