Last night for whatever reason Bella was really having problems sleeping. She was obviously very tired and would drift off in our arms but immediately wake up and fuss every time we put her down. Dom and I were already tired and frustrated and I’m afraid we both got snappish. It’s hard to keep your cool when you’re exhausted and frazzled and there’s a screaming baby involved.
Unfortunately, Bella kept it up all night. I eventually brought her into bed with me in the hopes of nursing her until she got into a deep sleep; but that never happened. I drifted off and on and every time I woke up she was restless and not in a deep enough sleep that I could transfer her without waking her up. So I had a stiff neck, aching back, arms falling asleep and bad dreams to boot.
Poor girl. I wish I knew what was wrong. I think it might be gas. She’s been having phenomenally stinky farts.
I realize in retrospect that part of my frustration is precisely because this is a departure from what has become the norm: a baby who goes down relatively easily and sleeps on her own for most of the night. We’ve been lucky because she has been fairly predictable. When she doesn’t stick to her usual pattern I fear I’ve done something wrong and it’s hard to keep a sense of perspective. I fear that this is going to be the new pattern and wonder how on earth I’ll cope.
And then this morning, looking at her sweet face, I wonder how I could ever have been annoyed at her. I apologize to her for my failings as a parent. And, sadly, am all too aware that this is not the last time I’ll fail her. Fortunately for me she’s the forgiving sort. She laughs and smiles and life goes on.