I knew a long time ago that I can't drink milk while breast-feeding. Ally couldn't take it, and neither can Anya. So I should have known better, but last week, I had biscuits and gravy for supper. The gravy is mostly milk, and it really didn't agree with her. (I also think I've been eating a little too much of my VDay candy) She's been having trouble sleeping at night again. And by having trouble, I mean completely refusing and by sleep, I mean more than 5 minutes at a time and by at night, I mean ever.
I was about to put her on ebay. It's a good thing I didn't, because by the time the auction ended, things would have been better, and then I'd get kicked off ebay for not sending her to the winner.
Anya has been slowly learning how to sleep. For the past {insert time frame her, because I don't really remember} she's been only waking once or twice and either putting herself back to sleep quickly, or I have been able to lay her down and be back in bed within 5 minutes. Not perfect, but acceptable. So when she morphed into the moster baby from the 9th dimension of Hell last week, I thought "Teeth". And she was drooling more than ever. (I mean open mouth all the time, rivers of drool pooling on her shirt and by extension, my shirt) It got bad enough that I just abandoned all hope and started rocking her and nursing her at night again (Bad me). If teeth were this bad, how was I going to survive 20 or so more of them? Bye-bye, will to live.
Then, Rob got called to work Saturday night for the ambulance service, and I was alone. I dreaded it. Desperation kicked in. I went to bed the instant Ally was asleep. I braced myself for another night of calming the thrashing, screaming baby. And Anya had a good night. She woke up once, and I fed her, but she went back to sleep. She woke up again at 5:30 and I fed her, and !!!! She went back to sleep. I stayed in bed til Ally woke me at 6:50. I think that's the latest that's ever happened. Anya woke up 5 minutes later, and played happily on the floor with toys and Ally for almost 2 hours. It was amazing. I became a better person. One night of (interrupted) sleep was not enough to account for it. I was still tired. Still sleep-deprived. The difference was hope. I had hope that it might be over. That the monster had been banished again. And I started thinking about other reasons and settled on the biscuits and gravy. Maybe that was the culprit. If so, that means teeth might not be so bad after all. Hope is a wonderful thing. I am human again. And so is Anya. Yay.
"Hope" is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I've heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of Me.
-Emily Dickinson