Monday, December 9, 2013


Goose is teething. He is teething, but is a better teether (is that a word?) then Bug was. At least that’s what I keep thinking to myself in my sleep deprived haze that has been building up for the last 10 1/2 months. I know it’s true, he, in general, sleeps better than Bug did. But the weeks leading up to a tooth being cut are tough, and the week before and after are just brutal. I’m in the throes of that time. He just popped through teeth 3 and 4 and is working on 5 and 6. And I’m scared. The other night when he woke up the first time I dealt with something I don’t ever remember dealing with when it came to Bug, and she definitely was cause for severe sleep deprivation for a very long time. First, I didn’t really wake up to his cries. K did. Well, I guess I kinda did. I heard K ask a question about the cries, I think it was something along the lines of who it was that was crying, although I’m not sure. He said this morning that both kids were making noise, but I still don’t remember hearing Bug at all. K doesn’t typically wake up to it in the middle of the night in part because I'm so quick to wake up to him, so that makes me question how long Goose was fussing, and maybe that was why Bug was too – because she kept hearing Goose. In my sleep deprivation haze I couldn’t even function enough to understand that the noise I was hearing were a babies cries, and my husband asking who. He had to ask the question a couple of times while I tried so hard to dig through the haze to understand what was going on. I was confused. I finally got through and was able to advise that it was Goose. K left and went to care for him. What felt like a minute or 2 later (although K said it was 20 or so), K came back in and let me know he thought Goose wanted to nurse. I could hear Goose crying (again I believe?). I was oriented enough to go nurse him. But while I was nursing him I felt myself weaving in and out of confusion, weaving in and out of this haze. The best way I can explain it is to liken it to the stories I hear of people who have been in a coma, and how they explain of this haze, fog, muck all around them that they have to try to dig, crawl, fight through to get to the surface. I know sleep deprivation isn’t a coma, and please understand that I’m not trying to say my situation is anything like a coma. That is simply what it felt like. There was this haze all around me, and I kept feeling so lost and confused as I tried to dig my way through. I’d get through and recognize that I was holding a suckling Goose to my breast, and I’d close my eyes again and sometime later I’d realize I was deep in the fog again. I have no idea how long I sat there. It seemed like a long time. Finally I realized that he wasn’t nursing any more, and I had no idea when he had stopped. He was quiet and asleep in my arms. So I put him back in the crib, to which he woke up to. I stood there patting his bottom until I thought he was good. Then I went back to bed. Shortly after I heard him fussing again, but I didn’t have the energy to get out of bed, and it didn’t last long before he was back asleep. I know he woke up at least one more time, and I know the fog was there but I don’t think it was quite as bad. But I don’t really remember that wake up and nursing session. Maybe I’m getting them confused and that was the second nursing session and the first I remember even less. I really don’t know. The night was a confused hazy blur that honestly freaks me out a little bit. Here’s to hoping for some sleep tonight.

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