Desperate
I think I hit a point today. I think that sleep deprivation may be driving me insane. I just realized this afternoon that I am desperate for sleep. Anna is crying in the other room and I just had to leave, because I honestly wanted to yell at her, "Why?! Why can't you cut me some slack and let me have a nap?!"
Anna is still eating every two hours on the dot, except for a brief period of four hours from 10pm to 2am. Not two hours from when she last ate, but two hours from when she started her last feed. People say, "Well, nap when she naps." Except that she doesn't nap. And when she is awake, she is generally pissed off. Around 4:00 this afternoon, I realized that I was about to fall over from lack of sleep.
I guess it's hitting me now because, somewhere in the back of my mind, I saw the eight week mark as a sleep oasis. Like maybe she'd be sleeping through the night by this point, or at least taking regular naps.
I'm also feeling a bit desperate because I am returning to work in three weeks, with no sign whatsoever that I will be getting any more sleep at night. In fact, by breastfeeding now, I have made it a bit more difficult on myself, because Jason can't share the feedings after I go back.
There has been a bit of discussion over on some blogs about difficult babies versus easy babies. It's taken me awhile to admit that I have a difficult baby. I don't feel particularly angry about this; rather, I have found myself accepting it as a fact and that's that. Last night, at 3am though, I found myself plea-bargaining with God. "Come on, God...cut me a little slack here. Please just let her sleep until 7am this time..." No dice. She was up again two hours later.
Well, I guess I've let her cry for long enough. Don't want to damage her psyche, Dr. Sears.
Anna is still eating every two hours on the dot, except for a brief period of four hours from 10pm to 2am. Not two hours from when she last ate, but two hours from when she started her last feed. People say, "Well, nap when she naps." Except that she doesn't nap. And when she is awake, she is generally pissed off. Around 4:00 this afternoon, I realized that I was about to fall over from lack of sleep.
I guess it's hitting me now because, somewhere in the back of my mind, I saw the eight week mark as a sleep oasis. Like maybe she'd be sleeping through the night by this point, or at least taking regular naps.
I'm also feeling a bit desperate because I am returning to work in three weeks, with no sign whatsoever that I will be getting any more sleep at night. In fact, by breastfeeding now, I have made it a bit more difficult on myself, because Jason can't share the feedings after I go back.
There has been a bit of discussion over on some blogs about difficult babies versus easy babies. It's taken me awhile to admit that I have a difficult baby. I don't feel particularly angry about this; rather, I have found myself accepting it as a fact and that's that. Last night, at 3am though, I found myself plea-bargaining with God. "Come on, God...cut me a little slack here. Please just let her sleep until 7am this time..." No dice. She was up again two hours later.
Well, I guess I've let her cry for long enough. Don't want to damage her psyche, Dr. Sears.
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