Argh, you poor sleep-craving thing. I feel for you, or would if I had the energy to feel, well, anything just at present.
Matilda is consistently sleeping between 2 and 4 hours at a stretch and several times a night will wake non-hungry and then self-soothe back to sleep, but I'm in a constant state of shame at how poorly I deal with even those few wake-ups -- being jolted up at dark-thirty from mid-dream is so physically unpleasant it comes close to triggering a vomit response. And she's developed a horrible habit of filling up on one breast and refusing the other (which is leaking through the pad, the bra, the nightgown, and all over the bed) until finally (after literally 20-30 minutes of trying to rouse her) I give up, re-swaddle her, and turn the light out, at which point she screeches in ravenous rage and I almost throw up again (and so badly want to pitch either her or myself out the window) (and it's never predictable -- sometimes she'll submit peacefully and drop right off to sleep, but when the rageful wail comes it is like a needle in my heart). I feel like Incompetent!Shit!Mom.
It's just boggling. Even when the baby is doing it right and growing and thriving, breastfeeding is still so emotionally fraught. And the tired, oh God, the tired.
Sending you and Dillo (and Casper) much, much sleep/feeding-coordination-ma.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2006-11-15 01:49 am (UTC)Matilda is consistently sleeping between 2 and 4 hours at a stretch and several times a night will wake non-hungry and then self-soothe back to sleep, but I'm in a constant state of shame at how poorly I deal with even those few wake-ups -- being jolted up at dark-thirty from mid-dream is so physically unpleasant it comes close to triggering a vomit response. And she's developed a horrible habit of filling up on one breast and refusing the other (which is leaking through the pad, the bra, the nightgown, and all over the bed) until finally (after literally 20-30 minutes of trying to rouse her) I give up, re-swaddle her, and turn the light out, at which point she screeches in ravenous rage and I almost throw up again (and so badly want to pitch either her or myself out the window) (and it's never predictable -- sometimes she'll submit peacefully and drop right off to sleep, but when the rageful wail comes it is like a needle in my heart). I feel like Incompetent!Shit!Mom.
It's just boggling. Even when the baby is doing it right and growing and thriving, breastfeeding is still so emotionally fraught. And the tired, oh God, the tired.
Sending you and Dillo (and Casper) much, much sleep/feeding-coordination-ma.