Dirty Little Secret

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times. This blog is supposed to by my no-holds-barred, safe to write freely, able to voice what I want, honest to goodness place to write. So why have I been holding onto this dirty little secret? Maybe because I know how much other mamas judge me for it. Maybe because I feel like it’s my weakest point as a parent. Maybe because it is honestly one of our biggest points of contention, an incredible stress, and it isn’t exactly something I’m proud of.

Our son will be 16 months old this month, and he doesn’t sleep through the night. You know those signs that display safety stats in factories? “43 days since our last accident!” Yeah, I’m getting something similar for our house. “X Days in a row Bean has slept through the night!” Except that more often than not, that sign would display a big fat jerky zero. 

The low down: Bean slept only on either me or Hubs for the first four weeks of life. There was just no other way. Bouncy seat, car seat, swing, crib, blah, blah, blah. No deal. Swaddled, un-swaddled, white noise, total silence, total dark, a little light on, nothing. He would not sleep on his back and off of us, so we went with it. At about the one month mark we decided to give in and, against all SIDS warnings out there, we put him to sleep on his tummy in his own crib. And he took to it like a moth to a flame my friends. To this day, this boy is a tummy sleeper. It may not be the “right way”, but it was our only way. 

By 8 weeks old he was sleeping through the night, all on his own. No sleep training at all on our part (we’ve always chosen to be baby-lead), he just stopped needing us in the middle of the night. We were thrilled! We were happier, had more energy, and were finding time to connect as a couple again (which was much harder to do after Bean’s birth than I could have expected.) Sleep can make or break a household, and at this point in time, we were on cloud nine. This baby thing wasn’t half bad after all.

Then the ear infections started. The whole story there is a saga for another day (really, I could take up multiple posts just on that mess alone) but let me give you the abridged version. Bean had his first ear infection at about 7 or 8 months old. From there, we fought our way through more than 5 more ear infections, one nasty cold, plenty of teething, two stomach viruses (or reactions to his many, many antibiotics. We still can’t be totally sure, unfortunately.), and some fancy schmancy Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease. We broke away from our pediatrician’s advice in February and had tubes surgically placed in B’s ears (hopefully curing him of all further infections.) However, this meant that B, with very very few exceptions, had not slept through the night from about 7 months old, until his surgery at 13 months old. We were freaking tired. It doesn’t matter if your child has legitimate reasons for being up all night, sleep deprivation sucks either way. We knew logically that it wasn’t Bean’s fault, that he was in pain/ too snotty to breathe/ his head throbbed from teething/ his head throbbed from ear fluid build-up… but logic means almost nothing when you are that exhausted. 

I envied my friends whose babies were only ever up for the occasional illness or two-night spell of teething. I felt like I was doing something wrong when people (including my asinine pediatrician) suggested that we just let him cry it out, despite the fact that he had legitimate medical reasons to be up at night. I knew that without proper sleep his development (and even his growth) could be delayed. I hated all the meds we were pumping into his little body, but it was either pain medicine and antibiotics or no hope of any sleep at all. 

At the time his tubes were placed, his molars had begun to break through, so although we got a couple of nights in a row right after surgery, it didn’t last long. As the molars continued to come in, all four canine teeth decided to make their debut, and that’s where we currently stand. One more @#!@&* canine tooth left to break gum, and then, hopefully before the 17 month mark, we’ll have our chance at sleep.

I know not all babies have disrupted sleep with teething, but mine does. Not all babies even lose sleep while ill, but mine does. My child will lose sleep if over-stimulated, over-tired, too thirsty, in pain… the list goes on. Part of this is attributed to the fact that he’s just a high maintenance kiddo (also a saga for another day.) Part of this is totally legit from months and months of painful ear drum pressure, scary high fevers (104+) and an exhausted little body trying to fight infection after infection. I know logically that we did nothing to bring on these infections. (Per multiple doctors and all of my reading, Bean’s Eustachian tubes are just genetically predisposed to this sort of thing, and nothing other than surgery would have helped). I know logically that no amount of sleep training or crying or whatever would make a difference based on the kind of kid he is and what he’s been up against. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel like a failure. That doesn’t mean that I don’t get totally frustrated at 3am and want to break down sobbing because my 30lb toddler can run, play, feed himself, turn off our TV in the middle of an awesome show, call 911 from my locked cell phone (another story for another day) and even hold a piece of sidewalk chalk, but he can’t. Freaking. Sleep.

 I know it affects my kid. I know it affects my mood. I know it affects my marriage, my health, the kind of parent I am, and everything in between. Failing at sleep means failure at so many levels, I don’t even know where to begin. Feeling like a failure, by the way, doesn’t actually feel all that groovy. I know. Shocking.

I’m hopeful the light at the end of the tunnel is just around this bend. I know we’ll still have nights of illness and bad dreams and whatnot to come, causing bouts of interrupted sleep and cranky parents. I’m just hoping, wishing, cashing in all my good Karma, that someday soon we start getting more nights of sleep than nights of crying, screaming, painful sleep deprivation. I’m hoping that soon, my little safety sign will read “5 Nights in a Row Bean Has Slept Through the Night!” 

Actually, at this point, I’d even take two nights in a row.

Okay, blog fans. Fess up. What are your dirty little secrets? What do you feel you have to keep to yourself? Tell your favorite Jen.  She's a good listener. Promise.