The night shift

Saturday morning after a seriously challenging evening. Poor little bean was unable to stay asleep and was awake (very uncharacteristically) from 7-10 p.m.! I tried everything short of back flips and a shot of whiskey to get her back to sleep. Including, but not limited to, nursing, rocking, teething tablets, changing positions, getting into bed with her, a pacifier (I was running out of tricks and admittedly that was a long shot as she has never really cared for the pacifier), taking several deep breathes and pleading with her to do the same (that request fell on deaf ears I'm afraid). I could tell her mouth was bothering her as she tossed and turned and tried to fit both fists in there...in fact the way she was thrashing I wouldn't be surprised if she was trying to fit her feet into her mouth as well. Then her crowning moment came when she spit up all over herself and the lambskin she sleeps on (I was probably over nursing her trying to give her some kind of comfort). So then it was time for a complete bed and clothing change.

I took a few more of those deep breaths (Rhea still stubbornly refused) and reminded myself that this is what mothering was all about...that she needed me and I was going to do what it took to make sure she got some sleep and if she couldn't sleep then I would at least comfort her during her wakefulness. I was contemplating stretching out my hamstrings for those back flips when she began to settle down during the wardrobe change...it was almost as if we were resetting the clock and doing bedtime all over again. She quieted down as I changed her and was so sweet as I was changing her sheepskin...she sat on the bed looking somewhat dazed and began quietly babbling. I felt as though she was telling me all about her troubles getting to sleep. I sympathized with her and reassured her that I was sticking it out with her no matter what it took.

We cuddled back into bed, I pulled her close to me and she finally fell asleep...and so did I.