Ruthie Grows

Ruthie is asleep in a baby sling, wrapped tightly next to my chest. It's how she sleeps best.

So I'm slowly but surely working on training Ruu (or Roux, as my french-loving friend Emily likes to spell it) to actually take naps. It makes her a much happier baby overall, although it can sometimes take as much as 20 minutes for her to give in to sleep. I don't let her scream and wail the whole time, of course... I set a timer for five minutes so that I *make* myself give her the chance to settle down on her own. If she's not settled after five minutes, I go in, check her diaper, see if her swaddling has come undone, pat her, comfort her as needed, and start the process again.

This past week we had a breakthrough: Ruthie started taking a bottle without much (if any) fuss.

I started on Thursday, offering her a bottle during her mid-day feeding. Every time she got frustrated, I'd stop and cuddle her for a bit, then offer it to her again. Eventually she settled in and drank a full 3oz bottle of liquid, to my extreme delight!

The next day, I tried it again. This time, without any fuss whatsoever, 5oz disappeared almost immediately. So when Saturday came around, and I had to shoot a wedding in downtown Annapolis, I had no worries. Stephen offered her the bottle. Again: 5oz down the hatch, no muss, no fuss!

This is wonderful.

It's been quite awhile since I've written about Ruth, so here I go!

Ruth woke up at 4:30 this morning to nurse. Lately she's been waking up at least three times a night to nurse, which hasn't been too bad, since we co-sleep and we both wake minimally. But this morning was different. She kicked and slapped and mumbled and all kinds of I hate you, and then refused to settle down afterwards, getting up to play. Steve took her and tried to soothe her, but no go. So into the crib she went, and cried for a solid 15 minutes.

I've been reluctant to write about Ruth's latest milestone, mostly because I've been waiting for the spell to be broken. But here it is.

Ladies and gentlemen, for the past 4 nights, Ruth has slept in her pack-n-play the entire night through, getting up only once to feed.

Ruth is definitely walking now. Absolutely, undeniably walking. She doesn't always initiate it, but it's clear that she's got a new kind of balance.

Please forgive the scary facial expression at the beginning.

What a difference a good night's sleep makes.

The biggest drama of our lives in the past year has always been sleep. Getting Ruth to sleep through the night, at its various stages, has had its triumphs and setbacks. Now that she's 13 months old, it's reaching a tenuous place; right between genuine psychological need, and the beginning stages of--dare I say it--brattyness.

Nights in which I wake up once (due to pregnancy thirst), or twice (just listening to a whimper or two) are still common. Sometimes, however, we are plagued with nights of crying, crying, and crying. We're still out on the futon in the living room most nights; it seems as though Ruth has a sixth sense for when we're in the bedroom (which is when she can persist in getting us up).

It feels cruel to leave her there. Her frantic voice still breaks my heart. But what I think I've learned is my waffling & heartsickness have probably made things more confusing and complicated for her. It's hard to push my conflicted feelings away and be consistent.

Regardless, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. As Meg counseled me last night, she won't be 13 and still waking up at night.

The coming year will be a challenge; I imagine that in the first three months after #2 comes along, I'll feel even more a zombie than I did after Ruth arrived. But at least I'm experienced at it. All I've got to do is put a few folks on speed dial for those days when I'm barely human and losing it.

Maybe I'll publish a book after all my children are grown. I'll call it Adventures in Sleep: One Bleary-Eyed Mom's Epic Story.