Woven and Spun

For all the wallowing I do about sleep deprivation on this blog, I realized at 4am one night last week that I am my own worst enemy. Drew is not sleeping through the night yet – he has still been waking once at four to eat. However, after getting through several sporadic teething bouts (he’s got four on top now and four on the bottom…), I thought it might be time to start helping him make it through the entire night. So, I tried once. I think it was Thursday – he woke at 4am, I went in, pacified him, he fussed a bit and in a few minutes went back to sleep. I went back to bed and cried. I am my own worst enemy because I don’t want to give up the 4 am feedings. And that night when Drew woke an hour later, I quickly went in to feed him.

At 4 am, everything is quiet, there are no distractions, and my normally energetic, slight-of-attention-span little boy wants nothing else but me. At 4 am, his lanky frame that during the day kicks and squirms nestles magically in my arms as if he were still a perfect part of me. At 4 am, his busy little hands are still except when they reach to rest on my cheek or hug my neck. It disturbs my sleep and only lasts ten minutes or so, but sometimes 4 am is one of the most precious times of my day.

Monday of this week, I looked at my haggard husband over dinner and realized that 4 am was really starting to wear on him too. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the magical part of it; he only gets the disturbance in his sleep and then has to go and work all day. And then I was reminded that in just a few weeks, Tim and I are leaving Drew with his grandparents for a three day weekend, and they probably won’t appreciate 4 am either. So, yesterday, I tried again. Drew woke a little early at 3:30am, and I pacified him and let him cry. And cry he did…for two whole hours. At 5:30am, I finally decided we’d have to take this whole thing in baby steps, and I broke down and fed him.

This morning, he woke at 5:30am, and has cried for the majority of the last two hours, and so have I. And ironically, I realize that by not being my own worst enemy, I have become my own worst enemy again- I’ve given in to all the voices in my life telling me that ‘that baby should be sleeping through the night’, and I’ve done away with 4am. I have erased a special moment of motherhood that I can never get back again. I know I will probably rejoice once the sleep deprivation is over and the memory of 4 am fades, but for now, I’d give anything if I could just turn back the clock.