I sleep, therefore I am.

Husband: I think I hear the baby.

Nudges me in the side.

Me: (groan) Maybe it's another baby.

Husband: Nope, I think it's ours.

Me: Ugh. (checks time) I was just with him, like an hour ago.

Husband: Does that matter?

Me: (groans again, this time in anger) Fine. I will get the baby. Again.

Husband: This is not a competition. I got up the time before that.

Me: Whatever. (huffs outta bed and trudges to baby's wailing)

About 2 hours later......

Husband: Jesus, it's the baby.

Me: How much are we expected to take?? (in best "Actress in a Drama" Oscar nominated voice)

Husband: I'm getting a vasectomy. Like, tomorrow.

Me: Whatever. (huffs outta bed and trudges to baby's wailing)


Ah.....the unspoken trials of a non-sleeping baby is not just the lack of sleep, it's the 4am fighting spoken by the non-sleeping parents. Had my husband just threaten to not have any more children? Had I just agreed? What had we become? Well, in a word, we were zombie slaves to our sleepless wonder. He owned us and our sleep (and the rights to the family car on Saturday nights the day he turns 18). Of course, morning would come and our little night tirades would seem silly, comical if you will. "Ha!" I would laugh, "You said you were going to the doctor's today!" "Har, har," he would say, "You wanted to hire the woman at the grocery check out to be the night nanny from now on." Ah yes, our lives had been reduced to this. So what was our best solution? Bum patting and shoooshing! That's right. Bum patting and shooooshing. And guess what? It worked! One of us would enter baby's room, pat his bum gently, shooosh soothingly, and about 10-20 minutes later, voila, sleeping baby. I, of course, would hit my arm ever so lightly on the door on my way out and so the process would begin again. It wasn't fool proof, but it wasn't my nipple. Therefore, it was progress and we found some happiness with that.

All you need is sleep.

Nursing had become an addiction of sorts; there was no way baby was giving it up without a fight. It was time for a nursing intervention. Baby, your boob addiction has affected your father and I in the following ways: 1) You will only fall asleep laying in mom's arms, while gently sucking. 2) Dad cannot help when putting you to bed and cannot help when you wake up 3) Mom is feeling a little overwhelmed and a bit like an open milk buffet.

This had to end. We decided that although I would still nurse baby during the day, the nighttime feedings could be dropped. We bought the "No Cry Sleep Solution" book and decided to give it a go. The idea behind the book (aside from not allowing your child to cry it out, duh) is that baby is slowly weaned off the expectation of the breast when he wakes up. The method is as follows: let baby suck until milk comes in. Baby vigorously sucks. When sucking slows, gently break latch. Baby will squirm, wait 60 seconds, then place baby back on the breast. Count to ten, then remove and repeat the process until baby eventually falls asleep without the nipple. Surprisingly, it only took about three tries and baby was sound asleep. I was stunned. Part of the routine was also to keep an active log book of when baby wakes up (honestly, was it necessary to write down the time every two hours??) but actually (and more depressingly), baby was waking up more frequently than that. The little notebook I kept beside my bed looked something like this:

Day 1: 8:45 9:36 12:03 2:24 4:15 6:27 7:09

Ugh. The situation seemed more dire when we saw it written on paper like that. Really, how can one little body wake up that much? Didn't baby get how good sleep could be? Why oh why had he not inherited his parents love of sleep?

The process of getting baby off the nighttime boob was a painful one. Sometimes it would take try after try to get baby to drift back to sleep, often causing my own body to resign to the fact that it must be the morning and therefore I couldn't fall back asleep myself. I often looked at my bedside clock at the numbers that would glow 4:13am and groan. I was anxious, anticipating baby's next awakening. Christ, now I needed a sleep intervention.

The method was met with some success. Baby slept his first sleep cycle the longest yet, sometimes for 5 hours. When he finally woke up the first time, (breaking the sleep seal much like going to the bathroom at a bar for the first time after drinking for a few hours) he was up every 2-3 hours after that. However, napping was finally making an appearance and I could handle waking up 2-3 times a night. After a few weeks, baby did what can only be described as a "sleep plateau." He was no longer satisfied with me gently breaking the latch and going back to sleep. His little lungs began to exert their power and I am certain that it was at this time when the neighbors decided we were not getting a Christmas card that year. Although Dad was still putting baby to bed with success, the nighttime awakenings became louder and more frequent. We needed another plan.

We came, we saw, we slept.

Having baby co-sleep with me was not our decision. In fact, there was no choice in the matter. After giving birth, there was no way this little one was NOT going to be by my side. I felt this overwhelming need to have him close. When the nurse wheeled us to our post-labour room and my husband went to catch a bit of sleep and it was just the two of us, I felt compelled to take him from his little plastic box on wheels and tuck him right in my nook. He felt right. And he fit in the nook nicely. My husband and I never really gave a thought to co-sleeping. My mother had even bought us a beautiful bassinette that we fully intended on using. That first night home (and the subsequent few days) were difficult. We found that baby actually calmed down when he slept nestled into me (go figure, a newborn life wanting to be close to his mother!) ,so we didn't fight it. My husband took up camp in the spare bedroom, and baby and I enjoyed late night reality TV. We became so comfortable and at ease that I often found myself awake with one breast out of the nighttime nursing bra, looking at baby and asking, "did I do that or you?" I slept. He slept. It felt right.

Our groove continued this way without much thought. I still had people quirk an eyebrow at me when I said I slept with my baby, "but won't you roll over on him?" they would enquire. I seldom dignified that question with any real answer. Please, ask any mom if she EVER sleeps the same way after giving birth. That said, little baby began to change. He became more mobile, more demanding, and we knew the time for the crib had come.

At around 5 months old, we began the transition. I would gently nurse baby to sleep and then with as much grace and ease as I could muster, I would put him in his crib and slowly walk out of his room, quietly asking the sleeping gods for a long rest. I often hit my elbow on the door or would click the doorknob too loudly and little baby would squawk and cry. I would curse under my breath and we would start the whole process again. He still woke up to nurse, but no more than he had sleeping with me. To be honest, I missed him beside me (and now had my husband's snoring to contend with) ,but I knew deep down that this was the right thing to do. Right??? Napping became a part of our day as well and although I was still nursing him to sleep, I felt that in a month's time, that would all change with solid food. Obviously, it did not and we knew we had a bigger problem on our hands. Our next hurdle: get baby to sleep without the comfort of the boob.

Sleep, perchance to dream.

Breastfeeding was no easy feat. An hour ofter the little one's birth, he was gently placed on my chest and started a munchin', in all the wrong ways, and in front of my father-in-law. (You'd think that after 26 hours of labour and an hour of pushing in front of a team of medical staff all modesty would be gone. Ummm....not so much.)
Baby couldn't latch, and I couldn't wear a shirt that didn't rub against my nipples causing me to yelp. Yep, it sucked. Pun intended. However, three lactation appointments later and most of my family familiar with the sight of me bare chested, we were breastfeeding successfully. It still took weeks for the babe and I to find our groove, but when we did, I breastfed whenever I could, all with my very eager and supportive husband looking over my shoulder announcing, "oh, that's a great latch." Enthusiasm aside, it still didn't stop me from threatening formula at 3 am at least twice a week. I persevered and sort of just accepted the night time feedings as the reality of our eager little latcher. I also developed a strange fascination to late night TV. I still think back to 'Paradise Hotel' and wonder how a geek like Dave got on that show. Reality television aside, in the back of my mind, everything would change at 6 months, when we introduced solid foods. Ah.....the solid food myth. Much like the formula myth and the myth that your body will go back to normal after giving birth. Really? C'mon now! I suppose I never questioned that baby was waking up so frequently because he was at least feeding well and hell, the kid was 17 pounds at 4 months old. Who was I to slow him down? But as time often gives you perspective on things, my husband began to think that maybe these wakings were not normal and that we should do something about it. Our first project: get the babe to nap!

We soon realized that about 2 hours after waking up, baby starts rubbing his eyes, and is less enthused about hanging out in the exersaucer or playing with blocks. It's at this time that the napping ritual must begin. We dim the lights, gently rock; I would nurse and little baby would fall asleep peacefully for 2 hours.
Wait, did you actually think that it happened that way?? Why am I writing this blog? No, napping usually involved me lying beside babe until he fell asleep, usually with nip still in mouth, and then me tip toeing out of my room to furiously shower, skipping all hair removal rituals, and applying make up swiftly, (Benefit's 'Oh la lift' does wonders for the eyes) all with about 2 minutes to spare before baby lets it wail. We knew the next step had to happen in order for napping to be successful. Baby had to get to his own bed. The crib was our next hurdle.

Sleep is for the weak.

I love sleep. In fact, my husband and I would sleep until noon most weekends and gladly nap any time during the day if given the opportunity. "What a waste of the day!" my coworkers would chastise; to which I would coldly reply, "what a waste of your night."
"Wait until you have kids," they would warn. "Ha! Do you see me changing diapers right now? I didn't think so. Now I gotta go. I only got 6 hours sleep last night and I'm dyyyyyiiiing."

Ya, I am completely aware of the irony that our beautiful 9 month old repels sleep.

Sleep karma is a bitch and I have taken to accessorizing the permanent colour of bluish purple under my eyes to my shoes and handbags.

"But you don't look tired....."

To which I reply:

"It's the caffeine and make-up."

Here's our sleep story.
(Thanks to a very wonderful friend and sometime sleepless mom for encouraging this!)