lullaby and goodnight

Like most women, I didn't sleep well during pregnancy. My nose was always stuffy. I couldn't get comfortable. And I had to pee every couple hours. This pregnancy pillow helped me a lot. I don't think it helped Andrew very much, but he was okay with it.

Fast forward to the end of my pregnancy...contractions started in the middle of the night, stealing precious hours of sleep. Harriet was born at 4:19 in the morning, so I obviously didn't sleep that night either. We had originally planned to keep Harriet with us continually during our time at the hospital, but we were exhausted and the nurses kindly took her for a couple hours here and there so we could rest. And so it began...

No one expects to get much sleep during the first few months of their child's life, and neither did we. Harriet slept in a cosleeper next to our bed which I loved because I heard her cries immediately and was able to nurse her in bed. It also allowed me to check on her several times an hour (you think I'm joking) to make sure she was breathing. Pregnancy had been scary but now that my child was here and I had fallen in love with her, I was terrified of losing her. Several times during those first six months, I walked around our house, praying a shield of protection against SIDS over this space. Between the anxiety, the frequent nursings, and those squeaky little grunts newborns make, we didn't sleep much. Again, that's pretty normal. But there were times in those first couple months when she'd go sixteen hours without sleeping at all. That's not so normal for a newborn.

I started wondering if we had a challenging sleeper on our hands when she was about four months old. It just seemed to take forever to get her down. And she woke so often. She would sleep if she was nursing or being held, but if she was set down somewhere, she had trouble. There were plenty of times when I would be nursing her and stand up, walk over to her cosleeper and lay her down without unlatching her. I would balance precariously with one knee on the bed and my elbows on the desk, allowing her to continue to nurse until I very slowly unlatched her and eased myself into bed. During one of these scenarios, she started to cry when I unlatched her, so I put my face right down by hers and shhhhhed to try to get her to fall back asleep. She latched onto my bottom lip. I was so desperate for sleep that I just froze, afraid that she'd wake if I pulled away. It hurt like crazy! She gave me a fat lip...and woke up an hour later.

We moved her into her own room when she was six months old. It's a lovely nursery, my favorite room in the house. I would love to sleep in there.

Andrew was a big proponent of moving her to her own room, but the night that we actually made the switch, I gingerly laid her in the crib and then brought him upstairs to see how tiny and precious she looked. "Take her out of there!" he said, "She's way too little! It's so sad and tomorrow is your birthday. Do it a different day!" But we stayed strong and left her room, leaving Murphy behind to watch over her. He stayed in the nursery with her at night for a couple months, her guardian brother dog. 

People often asked us if she was sleeping through the night yet. "She's working on it," we would say. We just assumed she'd eventually figure it out. But month after month went by with very little progress. Now she's thirteen months old and she still sleeps like a newborn.

We have tried white noise. We've tried white noise plus one fan. White noise plus two fans. No white noise. Just the fans. Complete darkness. A nightlight. We've tried her door open and closed. We've tried having her sleep in our bed. We've leaned a vibrating baby seat up against the crib. We've put a vibrating chair massager under her crib mattress. We've slept on her floor. We've patted her back, sang to her, bounced her, walked her, brought her into our bed. We've tried tylenol, teething rings and two kinds of teething ointment. We've turned the thermostat up and and we've turned it down. We've dressed her in different types of clothing. We've put a sippy cup, a blanket, and a stuffed animal in her crib. We've let grandparents try. We've changed up her diet. We've changed up my diet. We weaned her completely. We watch for her tired signs and try to put her down at the perfect moment. We've taken her to two pediatricians and a chiropractor. We've gotten two different prescriptions for acid reflux. We wear her out with playing and fresh air. We've kept multiple sleep logs and journals. And we let her cry it out.

Crying it out is a controversial topic. I won't go into that here, but I will say that our research (and our hearts) told us that it wasn't the right choice for our family. But when everything else had failed us and Andrew was working a long stretch of nights, I felt I had no choice. So for two or three weeks, I let her cry it out. I would go in at increasing intervals and check on her, lay her back down, pat her back a bit, and remind her that she was okay. But she would not be soothed, let alone soothe herself. During that period of time, only once did she actually cry herself to sleep.  I was sort of shocked when she stopped crying, so I went in to check on her. She was asleep standing up with her arms and head resting on the crib rail. She had vomited and pooped. This wasn't the first time she had puked or filled her diaper while crying it out, but it was the last. This technique works for lots of families, but it didn't work for us. We were done.

I posted on Facebook about Harriet's sleep a couple weeks ago, asking for prayer. That night, she slept eleven hours straight. The next night was great as well. Since then, we've had good nights here and there (waking only once or twice) with plenty of ugly nights in between (waking three to six times).

Harriet's naps have always been a struggle too. She usually gets two half-hour naps. Some days she only gets one. We always try for two naps, but they often fail completely. We used to drive her around during her naps sometimes but there were plenty of times when I'd drive for forty-five minutes before she'd doze off, and then I'd pull into a parking lot and she'd wake immediately. It's not uncommon for us to try to get her down for a nap for an hour, only to have her sleep less than ten minutes.

As you can probably tell, this has been quite a struggle for us. I have resisted blogging about it until now for two reasons. First, focusing on it makes me feel so discouraged. Second, I feel really sensitive about this topic. In some ways, I feel like a complete failure in this area. I feel like getting a baby to sleep should be a simple thing, but I can't do it. No matter how hard I try, I lose this battle. Everyone has ideas about what we're doing wrong. The vast majority of these ideas are shared lovingly and with compassion. Please keep them coming. I'm not asking that you stop trying to help us. But it's still tough to be so stumped. I feel like people (some people, not everyone) must blame me for Harriet's sleep issues. I hear the voices...

"If they had only..."
"They never should have..."
"If it were me..."

It's hard not to internalize it. It's hard to feel good about myself as a mom when my daughter is so exhausted that clipping her fingernails upsets her to the point of gagging. It's embarrassing to take Harriet to someone's house and have to leave prematurely so that we can drive her around during her nap.

I cannot imagine a life where you don't dread nighttime, where you put your baby to bed and then snuggle up on the couch with your husband to watch Downton Abbey and have a bowl of ice cream. When Harriet goes to bed, we don't do anything. We don't even flush the toilets for fear of waking her. We share about our days in whispered tones and then we go to bed...at 8:00 or 9:00 because we will be up again in just a few hours.

Like I've mentioned before, my anxiety has taken this issue and run with it. I often lie awake at night, just waiting for her to wake up. My heart beats so fast and with such force that falling asleep is totally out of the question. This lack of sleep has caused my hair to fall out, my skin to break out and my weight to yoyo. It has affected my ability to process information quickly, to make decisions and to think rationally. It has caused my emotions to run amuck. It has tricked Andrew and I into thinking that we are on opposing teams. It has caused me to question whether prayer really works.

Things could be worse. They could be much, much, much worse. This is a thorn in our side. It could be a dagger, but it's not. It's just a thorn. But we feel the thorn's prick all day long and it affects everything we do. I am not complaining. It sounds like I'm complaining, but I'm not. Last night, after Andrew had fought the good fight for fifty minutes, I took over. As I rhythmically patted her back and sang to her, I smiled and I felt at peace. God has given me this girl. I cannot imagine a better life than the one I have. And there are moments when wisdom overcomes exhaustion and I realize that Harriet's lack of sleep means I get more moments with her than a lot of parents get with their kids. It doesn't matter so much that those moments are at 4:00 in the morning. So I keep patting her back, shhing her gently, and singing...

I cast all my cares upon You. 
I lay all of my burdens down at Your feet. 
And any time...I don't know...what to do...
I cast all my cares upon You. 

I really, really don't know what to do. Some days are really good. And other days, I feel like I'm unraveling. Harriet had an MRI last Monday. It was originally ordered because her head was growing too big too fast for the doctor's liking, but the sleep clinic said that they would also be very interested in the results. The imaging showed everything to be normal. We are so grateful for good results. We have a consult with a sleep specialist on February 1st. I will keep you updated. We have a great team already. Harriet's grandparents have been wonderful about coming over some mornings so that Andrew and I can sleep in. My mother-in-law answered my tearful phone call a couple weeks ago at 6:00 in the morning and came straight over. We are so glad that we'll now be adding doctors to our team.

Thanks to all of you who have joined our team by praying for us. We are so very grateful. I am no longer able to pray that Harriet will sleep, that she will have a good night, that this problem will be solved. I just can't bring myself to say those words. I am instead praying that God will allow us to retain our strength and uphold our joy no matter how long this struggle lasts.