Your baby does what at night?!
Did you say ssll-, um, sslllee-, sluh-eep? I can hardly understand what you trying to say. Are you EVEN SPEAKING ENGLISH?
See, my baby does NOT sleep through the night yet. Not even the better part of it. Sure, Sugarpie’s only 11.5 weeks old, but it seems that all of my baby peers have little ones who can go 6, even 8-9 hours at a time without whining for the boobie. That is not us.
It’s a scientifically proven fact that there are 7 stages of sleep deprivation. My husband has no idea (because he is sleeping), but every night I go through each distinct stage at every waking. It looks something like this:
Disbelief: Kind of a stunned didn’t-I-just-close-my-eyes feeling
Denial: She just needs to fart, she’ll work it out (roll over, pretend that I’m actually going to continue sleeping).
Anger: WHY DOES MY HUSBAND EVEN HAVE BREASTS IF THEY DON’T WORK?! What a waste of anatomy. Not fair.
Bargaining: Look! It’s a nice warm pacifier. Isn’t this what you want? No?
Guilt: Baby continues her noisy and futile attempt to suck milk from her fists. Meltdown imminent. She needs me, no she needs to sleep! No she needs me. I am the most selfish, despicable mother who has ever lived. (This last sentiment occurs throughout the day, even outside of the context of nighttime waking.)
Depression: Tears shed over that life full of luscious sleep that you lived pre-baby, which always induces more guilt. (These last two, I’m afraid, will run in a perpetual mini cycle for the rest of one’s maternal life.)
Acceptance: Shed the warm covers, pick up your sweet, stretching baby and remember how amazing she is.
Repeat every 3-4 hours while thanking heaven that she is not twins. *yawn*