So last night we did the usual routine. Baby gets up at 11:30, and it takes me an hour to get him back down. You know the routine: rock the baby, pat the baby, feed the baby, put him down, pick him up, walk some laps, put him down again. Back away slowly.
I woke up a couple hours later, like always, but to a strange new sound. I started to panic. I haven’t known this sound in many, many, many months.
The sound of silence.
So, of course, I go tearing into the nursery.
Is he breathing?
Yes, OK, he’s breathing.
Is he tied up in his blanket? Or choking on his nuk?
No, seriously, he’s OK.
So I crawl back under the covers in astonishment, half-expecting to hear a scream or sniffle or at least a little toot. But nada.
An hour later, I’m up again. Still quiet. And – yes, I confirmed – everyone’s still breathing. Holy cow, did I do something right for once? Is this sleep-training project actually working?
Wake up an hour later. Holy engorgement. I can barely move my arms. What can I say, I’m used to nightly nurse-a-thons. Sleepily, I roll onto my belly - ouch, bad idea! Eventually, I fall back asleep wondering, “Isn’t that kid getting hungry yet?”
At around 6, the alarm goes off, and everyone’s up. Baby made it 12:30-6. I’m hesitant to say, but I think that means Operation Nighttime is doing some good.
Now I wonder if there’s some sleep training out there for paranoid mamas?
1 year ago