Thursday, December 13, 2012

I thought I lost a baby... oh no wait, it was just my mind.

I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know? Ernest Hemingway

People always say the same thing about having a newborn.... that you will never have a full nights sleep again in your life.

And then their next comment about parenting is usually "You'll be amazed how you can survive on such little sleep".

 Well I seem to be testing that theory. And "surviving" is just about all we're doing.

 You see on top of having a 3 month old -Who does not sleep 12 hrs at a time, and if one more person asks me if he does (and then looks at me like I'm doing something wrong when I say he doesn't)I'm going to stab them in the throat and then claim sleep deprivation as my defense- I also decided to go lobstering again this year.

 So take normal new parent exhaustion, and add it to lobstering exhaustion and you get a story like this one.

 The other night, I woke up to the sound of little Fussbucket crying. Like the dutiful mother that I am, I carefully got out of bed, so as not to disturb the baby lying next to me.

(I should mention that I co-sleep sometimes...this is not a political statement for pro-attachment parenting, or even a choice to cut down on laundry by not letting him sleep on the sheets in his crib. It is merely an act of survivalism while breastfeeding. Those who want to tsk tsk and say I'm spoiling my child by letting him in bed with me so he can feed while I continue to sleep can see the paragraph above, detailing how I feel about people who have opinions on sleep habits in my house.)

So I carefully get out of bed so as not to disturb the baby that sleeps next to me.

 And then I lean over the cradle and pick the crying baby up.

In the dark, I latch Baby #1 on, and then feel around in the bed, because I want to lie back down without rolling on top of Baby #2.

If some of you are starting to scratch your head and say "Wait a minute, I thought she only had one baby" well then you are way further ahead on the reality train than I was.

I feel for the right side of the bed. Nothing.

I feel for the left side. Still nothing.

I check under my pillow, in case my baby has suddenly developed the ability to silently crawl 2 feet and hide under things. Nothing

I start to panic.

How did I lose the baby that fast?

Did the Stronger Half take him?

I start to wake SH up...but I can see in the shadows there is no baby on his chest. We haven't slept with him on our chest in two months. He's not a newborn anymore, he doesn't like it and he wiggles off.

Oh Gawd.... now I'm really in a panic. I'm imagining SH picked the baby up in some sort of sleepfathering trance and put him on his chest, then didn't notice as the baby squirmed off and probably fell to the floor.

No probably hit his head on the bedside table and THEN fell to the floor.

Knocking him unconscious of course, which is why his screams didn't wake us up.

And then the dog probably snuck in the room and ate him. Or at least laid down on top of him and smothered him.

Cat's do that don't they?? Not dogs, but dammit, my dog never behaves anyway... so yea the dog probably sat on top of the poor baby... now I'm the mother of that smothered baby that rolled off Daddy, just like the stupid meatball that rolled out the door that I'm always singing about.

As SH starts to wake to my panicked cries of "Where's the baby?"  I realize I'm only searching with one hand.

Because my other hand is supporting the head of my baby who is calmly feeding as his mother has a nervous breakdown.

My only baby.

Because I only have one.

And he's safe and sound in my arms. Not rolling around like a rogue meatball waiting for a dog to confuse him for a soft place to lie down.

No comments:

Post a Comment