Sampling the Christmas goodies from Aunt Katie
So, I’ve been taking pictures. And there were some good moments over the weekend, but to come totally clean, it was a pretty gruesome few days. Iris hit the 9 month sleep regression with her usual aplomb. And we weren’t sleeping well to begin with, so you can imagine what a regression looked like.
I got 2 hours of sleep on Sunday night.
And it’s finally time for us to make some family changes. I still don’t really think my frustration and edginess is a true (hormonal) postpartum. I think only sleeping for 2-3 hours at a stretch for 9 months has kind of chewed up my tires, and whatever survival mode adrenaline kicked in after Carl’s accident pretty much drained off over the summer. And it’s one of those things where, as a mom, you could try to own the whole problem and just medicate yourself into oblivion, but we are a family. Sometimes everybody has to bend a little. Carl is stepping up a lot more—taking on more of the night wakings (he always did the evening ones) and (woot woot!) taking longer daytime stretches on the weekends so I can do fantastic things like… sleep and watch movies (Lincoln is really good!).
And sweet, stubborn, busy little Iris is learning that even though we love her very much, we don’t always make it cribside in fifteen seconds like we used to at 3am. It’s not cry-it-out exactly. We check on her. I still feed her at night. There are snuggles to be had. But we’re asking a little more patience from her, a little more independence. Not too much, I hope. But a little.
There have been tears, I won’t lie. And those minutes are genuinely awful. But—to my total shock—she resettled herself with only a few gentle fusses TWICE last night, and—better still—she’s waking up happy. It’s been a while since that happened. She used to babble when she woke up, but after the regression hit, she was so sleep-deprived she was waking up in the morning crying and miserable.
Happy mornings are good.
6 hour stretches of sleep are AMAZING.
I think we might survive.