Add crying to our bedtime routine.
Here we are, yet again.
As of last night, daddy does bath, potty, teeth, books and bottles, and another potty. Then at 6:30-ish Jonah gets into the crib. “Lay DOW-UNN,” he says — no longer interested in being rocked while sung to. I take over. I inform him that I will be with him for the next 20 minutes. That I will be leaving the room at 7:00, and after that, he will have to go to sleep on his own.
He can have whatever he wants during that time. HAND? Fine. Songs? Sure.
Tonight he chose to stand up and run around the crib for a good chunk of that time, lying down occasionally to demand “Blanket. On You,” and then kicking it off and getting right back up again. It was like the previous night, only with a huge dose of manic combined with short-attention span. “Mommy, do Ohm. Doggy. Two Doggies. Snuggle. Close the door. Bottle. All done. Put it down. Bottle. Blanket. On You. Close it (meaning the crib side). Sing. Loverly. Hand.”
Every few moments I suggested that he lie down. Tried putting a hand on his face, on his belly. He continually wriggled away. Every five minutes I gave him the update on how much time we had left together. At one point, towards the end, he leaned against the crib side, chin resting on his arm, gently gnawing on one hand, head inclined towards me. I leaned forward in my chair and touched my head to his. And we did Ohm like that for a little bit.
In our last minute together, he did finally lie down, accept the bottle, demand HAND. At 7:00, I left the room.
Last night he yelled Mommy for about seven minutes, Daddy for about three minutes and then he conked out. Tonight he yelled Mommy for about 15 minutes and then… sleep.
I try not to let it get to this, but it seems we find ourselves here again. I know he knows he’s fine. I know he just wants to play, doesn’t want to be alone, enjoys the manic energy. I pray that he gets back to that place he was in once, long ago, where, at the end of his bedtime routine, he would just say goodnight to us and fall asleep quietly. I know we had at least one night like that. Maybe two?
* * *
Crying over spilt milk.
Okay, so. Ummmm. How come nobody told me? That you can wean, and your body can continue to produce milk for, like, A YEAR????? REALLY?
Jonah hasn’t nursed in two weeks. Given all the dire warnings about not even missing a feeding, lest milk production drop, I am shocked, SHOCKED, people, that the bar is still freaking open. Shite shite shite.
I would like the strange sensations in my torso to cease now. Thank you.
Besides, remember that doctor who told me my exhaustion and depression were from nursing and suggested that I should wean already? (Yeah, that was great.) So here I am, I’ve WEANED. I mean HE weaned — mostly. It was gradual. He pretty much initiated it, becoming less and less interested over time until he just stopped asking for it.
And I’m sad, and relieved at the prospect of having my body back, and I’m still sad about the end of that era, and I’m just plain sad, and tired. And I’m wondering, where is that payoff that the jerk of a doctor offered?
Sweet, elusive sleep. So sorry you are suffering through this.
And now for my somewhat bad mommy confession. I went through something similar with my son — probably about the same age as Jonah (maybe a little older — can’t remember now, it’s all a blur — my son’s almost 5). One night out of desperation, I told my son that I needed to leave but I would “try to come back.” Not sure where that idea came from, but the words just popped out of my mouth. Now I didn’t really intend to come back unless I absolutely, positively had to. Some nights I had to, but after a while more often than not, he accepted that I would try and would fall asleep. For quite some time “try to come back” was part of the routine, with at least one of us saying it. Then eventually he didn’t need it anymore. Of course, now instead he has to have a drink of water before he’ll go to bed. And ask a million questions that MUST be answered. Anything to postpone bedtime.
And a YEAR?!? I did not know that. What I do know is that with my daughter it took about 3 weeks for my body to get the hint that we were really, really done. Bittersweet.
I asked my doctor when I would dry up after nursing, she said some never do. It’s been over a year for me, and I am still not completely dry. Maybe that’s a good thing?
I think the exhaustion is the increased energy from the wee one, and their erratic sleep which leads to your erratic sleep. I only found nursing exhausting the first few months of nursing them or during growth spurts. As to the depression, I’ve read that nursing postpones postpartum depression, and women may experience symptoms similar to that when they finally do wean; the oxytocin produced during nursing provides a natural defense against postpartum. For this reason, your doctor’s advise puzzles me.
In regards to Jonah’s sleeping, is it possible he doesn’t need to sleep as many hours as he use to, or he may just be very eager to continue playing and learning.
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Leanne — thank you so much for the confession! I really relate. Last night, Jonah said “You’re okay” — mimicking me consoling him. Ooof! I’m sure his stalling will get more elaborate as he gets older!
Lizette — Yeah, I’m not going back to that doctor anymore. She’s not on the ball, clearly.
Ugh, post-weaning depression, yes.
And as for Jonah — I’m pretty sure he’s just all wound up and manic at bedtime, particularly because he’s tired, verging on overtired. He’ll bargain till dawn if we let him. One more song, one more put the blanket on me, etc. Tonight I sat with him for over 20 minutes at the end of his bedtime routine while he laid in his crib with his eyelids so heavy you could almost see him dragging them back open again. He won’t sleep till I leave though. Used to be he’d fall asleep with me there, which wasn’t great either — but stopped working so now moot.
Fortunately, he only cried/complained for about 7 minutes tonight before conking out. I think that’s fair. Going to bed sucks. I don’t blame him for griping about it.
For example, I should totally be in bed by now. And I’m dragging my eyelids open to play on the internet. Bad mommy.
Ha ha.