Go to Sleep, Go to Sleep... PLEASE DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN, JUST GO TO SLEEP!

A three-hour nap on the plane? Yes, please! A full night's rest? Not so fast...

It’s 10:45 on a Monday night, and your head just hit the pillow. Your eyes drift closed and, like a child worn plum out from the day’s activities, you’re gone to dreamland. For thirty whole minutes. Then you hear it: the ominous shuffle of crib sheets on the monitor as a baby’s head turns back and forth and back and forth. She lets out a little whine, and you try your best not to curse and/or cry. She’s up. And so begins another long night.

You pray to every God you’ve ever heard of that she will drift back off to sleep, knowing good and well that closing your eyes and trying to go back to sleep is an exercise in absolute futility. It’s not that bad, you attempt to remind yourself 30 seconds later as the whining grows louder. You practically jump out of bed and run to the kitchen, attempting the impossible act of making a bottle while she’s still half asleep, before the full-on wailing begins. There are so many would-be parents out there that would gladly sacrifice each and every wink of sleep they’ve ever gotten to be right where you are. “Cherish every moment,” you say out loud. Just then: “WAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Too slow.

As you maneuver her out of the crib and into the living room, the monitor beeps. Shit. You forgot to turn it off when you picked her up, and now it’s trying to warn you that your baby has quit breathing. You have five seconds to run back into her room and turn it off before incessant beeping startles everyone even more awake than the screaming baby already has. Too bad you’ll never make it. 

Gently shove (oxymoron?) the bottle into the baby’s mouth to try to counterbalance the trauma she’s just been through, bless her heart. Stub your toe on a toy or step on a remote. Practically fall into the recliner. Realize you didn’t grab a paci or a burp cloth and hope and pray you don’t need either. Sigh. Late night feeding at its finest.

As she sucks down her lactose-sensitive formula, you ponder how many times you’ll be up tonight. Once an hour? Twice? Will you get lucky and get two or even three hour increments? Probably not. Even more daunting, will she go back down in her crib at all tonight? Or, after an hour of trying every trick in the book, will you have to bring her to bed with you just so you can get some rest? Who IS this baby that wakes up several times a night, and what happened to MY baby? The one who has been sleeping through the night for months? Is her belly still recuperating from our failed attempt at introducing solid foods? Is it just the teething? Should we give her more Tylenol or some of that homeopathic crap or Little Teethers or nothing at all? Could THAT stuff be hurting her belly? Is it the temperature of her room? The noisy neighbors? The crib mattress? Surely not. She’s been sleeping in that crib in that room since she was 5 weeks old, and she has never been so restless. Inevitably, you begin to question every parenting decision you’ve ever made. As tears roll down your cheeks, you wonder if she’s as happy and healthy as she could be. You should have continued breastfeeding at all costs or at least bought the expensive, name-brand formula for goodness’ sake. If only you would have made her sleep on her back instead of her tummy and stuck to a schedule. Why didn’t you read more baby books? What happened to cloth diapering?   

On the verge of a full-fledged meltdown, she intervenes with a contented sigh. You look down to see her tiny little hand caressing yours, and every. last. worry. just disappears. Since that fateful day you found out you were expecting, you’ve been hopelessly devoted to this baby. Every thought, word and deed has been dedicated to her livelihood, her safety and her happiness. You have spent the past almost five months getting to know her, fulfilling her every need and learning how to be not just any mommy, but her mommy. Twenty four hours a day. Seven days a week. You know and love her more than anyone on the face of the planet. No matter what friends, family or the internet says, you and only you know deep down what is right for her, and you’re willing to do whatever it takes to make her the happiest, healthiest, most loved baby on the face of the freaking planet. Even if that means never sleeping again. 

So, take a deep breath, pick yourself up out of that fugly but functional recliner and do what you do best, mama. And, if all else fails and she just won’t go down, snuggle with that baby without worrying that she’ll never sleep alone again. She will. And so will you.