So last night, Cary and I had a moment. Not the moment I wanted to have, but a moment nonetheless.
For the past week or so, the poor thing has been so tired at the end of the night that he can't stay awake long enough to finish his bedtime bottle (around 6:45). So he wakes up for more milk anywhere between 11 and 2. I, of course, have been waiting for the right moment to get him back in the habit of STTN.
Last night, he finished his bedtime bottle. Sucked it down to the last drop. I thought, "Great. Here's our moment! Either he'll sleep through the night, or if he doesn't, I can start the three-day process of re-weaning him from overnight milk." Famous last words.
At 3 a.m. he woke up for milk. At first, he was merely complaining. I let it go. Then he escalated to loudly complaining. I let it go. Eventually, Lester got up and turned the monitor off and said, "Either give him a bottle or not. But I'm not listening to this all night." (I also let that go!)
A few minutes later, actual crying began. I went in to comfort him, but (veteran parents know what's coming next) that just made it worse! I patted him and patted him and even ended up sitting on the floor next to his crib, patting and soothing. Again, this just made it worse.
Finally, at 4:45, when the crying was more than I could stand, I caved and gave him a bottle. He was asleep almost instantly. I, however, did not get back to sleep until about 5:15.
Like I said, NOT the moment I wanted to have.
Oh, and in the middle, Lester and I yelled at each other! He's all: "Just give him a bottle!!!" And I'm all: "No, he's not really hungry; he's just in the habit of waking up for milk now and we have to break him out of it." And Lester's all: "I don't CARE. I just want to go to SLEEP!" And I'm all: "Well you SHOULD care! I don't want to be waking up to give him a bottle for the rest of our LIIIIIIIIVVES!!"
I say again: Bad, bad, BAD night.
What is it about pre-dawn awakenings that makes everything seem so life-or-death? I mean, today, it doesn't seem so awful. Why couldn't I have had the calm I have today when Cary was crying in his bed, and I was gripping my sheets, sighing heavily, and staring at the ceiling, praying for lightning to strike me right. this. minute to take me out of my misery?
Don't ask me what I'm going to do tonight when (if?) he wakes up. I have no idea. But as tired as I am, I might give the kid a steak, if he indicated that it'd keep him asleep.
OK, maybe not. But I really don't know what to do. I don't want him waking up for a bottle just because it soothes him. He has to re-learn to self-soothe (which I know he can do, because he's done it. LOTS.) But I also don't want him hungry! And I can't take another night like last night. Lester thinks he'll eventually grow out of needing a bottle at night. But I've got a 3-year-old nephew who still wakes up in the middle of the night for milk in a sippy cup. (Yes, Tahira, I'm shouting you out!)
I swear, I will learn to make lightning in an old pickle jar and strike myself if that is me in 2.33 years.
Stay tuned to see how this turns out.
P.S. Can you believe Dean slept through this whole ordeal??? That baby sleeps like a teenager!
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