TRUST ME

I feel like I contradict myself whenever I write anything on here. Not so long ago I was spouting on about how I was going to trust my instincts, and then last week I go to a class at Plunket about sleeping and crying, and somehow manage to forget everything I thought I knew about my views on sleep training and go ahead and try to sleep train Zephyr. In my defence I was very tired and the thought of a Zephyr that could be put down for a nap instantly, like magic, by just putting him down for a nap seemed like a dream (it still does). But what I didn't realise is that it is, really, just a dream for me with this baby, as he is Zephyr and not some other baby.

So, anyway, I tried to do that whole thing where you settle them, then leave the room, listen to them howl for three minutes, attempt to settle them again, leave the room, feel awful...and so it goes on until someone gives in. It could be seen to have been working for a couple of days, as we were at least doing less rocking and coaxing than before, but really he was just passing out exhausted rather than learning to self soothe.

Perhaps it works for some babies, but all it did for us was drive us to a point on the third day where Zephyr was not settling whether I was in the room or not, even if I picked him up. So, nerves torn to shreds by crying baby, I went to the spare room and sat and looked at my wedding album and tried to harden my heart. He stopped crying after about ten minutes. I went in to check on him - he had thrown up all over his blankets, but yes, he was asleep.

At what cost, I wondered? Do I want to break this child in like a horse? Does he need to cry so much he vomits in order for me to have any easier job of getting him to take some rest? I felt physically ill. The look on his sleeping face was one of shock. I read some articles (should have done this before hand, I see now) about sleep training and realised that what he done was disassociated himself from what was a very stressful situation. The vomit was a result of the power of his crying, and the sleep was a result of the stress. I wasn't going to do it anymore. I cleaned him up (he slept through this) and waited in the living room feeling like a monster, for him to wake so I could cuddle him. I got his toys all lined up in a circle on the mat so he could play when he woke, after a nice feed to full that now empty stomach. I got a towel and facecloth ready so we could have a bath together, a favourite activity we usually only share on weekends.

I could blame misinformation from the slightly old-fashioned Plunket nurse on this harrowing experience - which, by the way, took us back about two weeks in Zephyr's sleep patterns as he became more distrustful of being left alone in the room; suddenly he was waking just after he fell asleep and needed us there for a good fifteen minutes after he shut his eyes; we had made it worse - but what has made me so susceptible to the views of others? I find that aside from the days when I have had plenty of sleep (ha), I feel uncertain about what I am doing with this kid. Maybe I should have read more books about parenting and less books about birthing, seeing as the birth didn't exactly go as planned. Maybe I should stop talking to anyone about their babies, but then I think I would go slightly mad (der). Maybe I should just relax.

All in all, Zephyr is a happy baby who loves activity and interaction. He smiles at anyone, from the supermarket check out operator to the baby in the mirror. He has just started to laugh, which is outrageously cute. And he doesn't seem to have any pressing health issues. The problem with this baby game is that the first time you play, you're doing it for real, with another human life. A practice round would have been nice, but then again, the population would probably be dwindling if that was a possibility, once people realised just how little sleep you really get when you have a baby.

So with last week relegated to the 'oops' basket, we continue on, learning and trying to find a stance we are all comfortable with.

Performing magic

Lately, we have been having trouble sleeping. (Well, I have no trouble sleeping at all, in fact I could sleep right now, anytime really, but I am trying to be compassionate here). We have been up approximately every three hours with insatiable hunger for Mother's Milk. It doesn't seem to matter what we do; we eat all day to see if that makes us less hungry at night: no; we eat every three hours to make sure we are hungry enough at each feed: no difference; we get lots of naps in so we are not overtired when it comes to bedtime: still the same; we stay up longer to get us plenty tired for bedtime: definitely not, and not worth the trouble.

It seems I just have a growing boy on my hands, and being his only food source, there is nothing I can do but wait it out. And suffer. There is a slight positive to being this tired. My body has started to do some pretty interesting things. Sometimes the world feels as though it is rocking slightly; sometimes my eyes create patterns in the plain fabric of the curtains; I can see the atmosphere, like I am watching grainy footage from an old movie. But these psychedelic moments are overshadowed by an overwhelming longing to sleeeeeep. Oh, to sleep. I keep thinking of when I was a teenager and I used to get up after midday in the weekends. Imagine.

Despite the sleep deprivation, at 3.5 months, Zephyr is nothing short of delightful. He has become the king of smiles. His smile is wide and gummy and packs a lot of emotion. He smiles, and then he smiles wider, and then he smiles even wider, and then, sometimes, he throws in a little laugh. He smiles at strangers in the supermarket; he smiles at his grandparents, with much positive reinforcement; he smiles at me while taking a quick pause during his feeds and manages to wake me from my stupor, where I smile back, in spite of the fact that it is 4am and I supposed to be avoiding eye contact.

Part of the delight to be gained from this growing bundle of joy is that he is now at an age where he can watch and listen and react to his surroundings. While pushing Zephyr in his brand new stroller the other day (never has there been such a proud and excited 3-month old to have a buggy!) I spied a dandelion in full fluffy seed and just waiting to be strewn into the breeze. I stopped and plucked it and walked into the baby's view, took a deep breath, and...fairies, everywhere, flying all around his face and sticking to his jacket and blanky. His eyes widened and he smiled. This was a smile of wonder.

I realised then that in spite of not having slept more than a few hours at a time in over three months, I held a new sense of power, perhaps worth the Z deprivation. I am now a magician. I am the holder of the key to all the tricks of the world. I can click my fingers, I can clap my hands, I can splash the water in the bath, I can catch a ball, I can crunch an apple, I can tickle, I can blow fairies from a dandelion. I am magical.