Cry it out

It's 10:15pm and I sit here wondering why the hell I'm not sleeping.

Wait. I know why I'm not sleeping. My child is in her room crying.

Up until recently (hmm, I'd say the last 2-3 weeks), Layla has been a great night sleeper. She wasn't always the best napper, but that was easily dealt with. I could always guarantee that at night she'd be down for a good 6-7 hours by 8:30pm. Not entirely sure what happened. We got back from NY and her sleeping habits took a crap. She'd wake up at 730am and wouldn't nap AT ALL until 3pm. Then she'd be restless and cry every 1-2 hours at night. She'd root and squirm, & by 6am we'd generally be miserable human beings because we barely slept. I made the decision that co-sleeping was done. She was obviously uncomfortable, Mr G. was sleeping on the couch and I was walking around all day yawning and snapping at anyone who dared to breathe the wrong way.

Enter the introduction to the crib and me sleeping on the floor of her bedroom. FAIL. Why? Because by the 2nd time she was up, which was still every.single.hour, I'd end up bringing the little peanut into bed with me ... again & again & again.

Now, when I got pregnant I had this vision of doing things a specific way. I was HELL bent against cry-it-out (aka CIO) or any method of it. I picked my little baby up with whatever peep she made, because let's face it - I'm a new mommy and in my mind that was the right thing to do, I STILL think it's the right thing to do... I digress. I had this idea of co-sleeping and attachment parenting and breastfeeding till 12 months. I planned on making her food & was trying really hard to get Mr G. on board with cloth diapering. It's been 7 months into being a mommy and so far I have fulfilled a lot of those goals. We co-slept up until a week ago, I exclusively breast-fed till 6 months & baby-wore whenever I could (and still do!). But often other things change, or simply don't go our way....

For instance, these days I'm not a great pumper. In fact, I'm lucky to pump 3oz total out of both boobs at one nursing session which lead to my having to supplement with .... 'the F word' while I'm at work. Ok, no big deal. Lots of mommies do it, right? I feel guilt, though, and I will say that nursing guilt is some of the worst I have ever experienced; BUT I still am nursing her whenever I am home, which is a majority of every day, as I only leave her for about 5 hours three or so days a week. But now I sit here and watch my sweet little girl cry and cry and cry for her mommy and I can't go rescue her & as selfish as this may sound, I have no one to rescue me. Little does that human know, I feel just as lost and helpless as she does, yet I have to be strong because we both need sleep. I swore up and down, in and out that I'd NEVER do this to her. That it was simply wrong and that nothing good would come of it. How did I end up here?

I'm not a big fan of plans gone awry, but I suppose with motherhood you have to grow and be open to the possibility of doing things you would never expect: like cleaning poop off of the bathroom floor when your kids explosion of a diaper ends up everywhere. But this, while seemingly necessary, is not & probably will never be easy. I've gotten so used to having my daughter with me during every waking moment (dear separation anxiety ... ok, we'll save that for another post) - attached to my breast in her sling, sleeping next to me every night while I listen to her breathe as reassurance that her tiny heart is still beating furiously away - that putting her in her crib and walking away is about as painful as chopping off my left arm with out being knocked the F out. And yet I sit here listening as her last whimpers fall into a deafening silence and she drifts back off into the land of nod & think to myself ....... I hope this is for the best.