Operation Nipple-less Nights: Day THREE
Well it’s 7 am on Wednesday morning as I write this (though I’m sure I won’t get it published until after I get the kids to their respective institutes of learning). Don’t let the time fool you, I’ve been up since 5, but it wasn’t because of Ella. I’m ready to tell you last nights story but honestly I’m at least a little scared to say anything at this point.
I would have blogged at 5 am because I was UP after all but then the neighbors cat peed on our five foot wide Chillsac (don’t ask me why the neighbors cat is even IN our house because that is a long and annoying story). Matt was nice enough to take the time to remove the cover (because like I said FIVE FEET of foam and my flexibility is not what is was before I had a bowling ball under my shirt) so I could wash it before he left for the Bay, but alas, SURPRISE. When he opened it it seems the chillsac itself had become unzipped and the cover was filled with five million teeeeeny tiny foam pieces. Therefore the living room was filled with teeny tiny foam pieces and cat piss smelling teeny tiny foam pieces at that. So after vacuuming SIX times (that is six empties of the canister in the RAIN) and washing the piss cover and throwing the cat out into said rain and moving the monster rowing machine TWICE AND trying to keep Ella from eating a bucket of piss foam and listening to the screeching cat at the front door the WHOLE time, I’m NOW ready to tell you about last night.
Here’s how it went.
DAY THREE (Tuesday): Despite her very poor sleep the night before, Ella only took her two regular length naps yesterday. One at 8- 9:50. And one from 1:15-3. I was able to sleep about an hour and a half during the day as well which was welcome. Come last night she wasn’t really ACTING tired at 8 pm so Matt went ahead and read her 163 MORE books then I gave her a nice dose of ibuprofen plus chamomilia and teething tablets which also have chamomile in them (it’s ok you don’t need to tell me how I od’ed my baby on chamomile) and took her upstairs at 8:15. From nursing to dozing to patting to sleeping was EIGHT minutes. TOTAL. I came downstairs to snuggle and knit Ella’s new stripey soaker and chat on twitter while we watched an episode of Survivorman. At 9:22 she woke up crying and I was filled with dread. Turns out she was just sweaty. I uncovered her, patted her and BAM 2 minutes. Out. Cold. Around 10:15 we decided that we’d hit the sack so I could sleep in the event of another presumed all-nighter. We chatted for a while and giggled like we do. I was feeling pretty anxious about the possibility of being awake all night again. Finally a little after 11 we went to sleep. I woke up at 11:33. Ella was still asleep. At 12:02. Still asleep. 12:27. STILL ASLEEP. 1:09 STILLLLL ASLEEP. 1:27 STILLLLLLLLL ASLEEP. At this point I was getting pretty irritable with MYSELF. Here I had a great chance to be SOUNDLY sleeping and instead I was obsessing if she was breathing, if she was ok, when was she going to wake, if she was going to cry ALL NIGHT LONG, the fact the the poor people on that tiny island Tuvalu off of New Zealand don’t have fresh water at all this year, the new hole in the ozone over the NORTH pole and whether or not my car is going to get keyed because I have an OBAMA 2012 sticker on it. Finally at 1:58 she let out a cry. I popped up and went in. I gave her her water first without picking her up. She chugged that for about a minute then reached up to me to be picked up. I tried to lay her down to pat her but she’d have no part of any such business. So I scooped her up and sat in the rocker and nursed. I won’t lie. I was plotting my night of sitting up at that point. But she only nursed FOR ONE MINUTE. Then she was dozing. I laid her down half awake. Pat. Pat. OUT. It was 2:01 THREE MINUTES. I went back to bed. After obsessing some more about those poor people on Tuvalu I finally fell asleep. Only to awakened by her crying at 3:17. I got up and lumbered into her room and found her FAST ASLEEP on her back. WHAT THE HEL IS GOING ON HERE PEOPLE?!?!?! So I went BACK to bed and laid there. Listening to the rain. Listening to Matt breathe. Listening to the cats. Thinking about Tuvalu (those poor people on Tuvalu don’t even know I’m laying awake about their water situation so how helpful am I?). Wondering how many minutes I’d get before she’d cry again. Two? Ten? Thirty?
TWO HOURS AND FOURTY-FIVE MINUTES folks. She slept straight through until 5:55 when she woke for the day which was just perfectly FINE with me. So even though I had a horrid night of broken sleep and woke up at 5 to worry about Tuvalu again I STILL slept more than I have in a year or more. And I pretty much feel like I could conquer the universe right now. On like 5.5 hours of SUPER BROKEN SLEEP. If I got 7 hours I might ACTUALLY conquer the universe.
Ella is cheerful. Obviously rested. Playing wonderfully after eating a nice breakfast. And FINE. She hasn’t nursied this morning and I haven’t offered because I’ve been getting everyone ready for school and cleaning up teeny tiny piss foam. Overall I feel really sad that I lost my milk supply but I am able to see a silver lining here. I needed a kick to night wean her. I am pregnant and I haven’t slept more than 5 VERY broken hours in months. I’ve been exhausted and sick and sacrificing my own health because I didn’t want HER to suffer. If I hadn’t lost my milk when I did I KNOW beyond a shadow of a doubt that we’d be co-sleeping and ALL NIGHT NURSING until the very end of pregnancy when I’d have to get her to to sleep so that I could before the new baby arrived. I know my milk will come back in four or five months and I hope that Ella will still want to nurse then. I’m trying not to fret that right now but it’s a constant in my mind. She is nursing less and less during the day because she’s walking and she’s BUSY and wants to read and play and have fun. She’s developing as she should. It breaks my heart to think of weaning her at this young age (she’d be the youngest of ANY of my babies to wean). I’m not religious but I AM spiritual and I do believe that things happen when they are meant to and for a reason. That seems hard to swallow when you think of all the AWFUL things that happen in the world but even in my own life the awful things have always led me to a place of greater understanding.
As is life. And this.