A bleary and bitter day
And I don’t just mean outside where we’re experiencing a relative heat wave; it’s almost 20 degrees Fahrenheit. Drake was up and down constantly last night between 11 p.m. and 2 a.m., finally sleeping in to the ripe old hour of 6:30 a.m. The last week has been one of escalating white-knucklehood, as he gets more fussy, more screamy, and more difficult to care for each day. I don’t know who I should thank that the onset of his increasing fussiness coincided exactly with me getting a set of stitches in my lower back, but someone, somewhere seems to have a nasty sense of humor.
I stupidly thought that having a baby would be hard at first, but would get easier over time as the baby slept longer and as we got the hang of being parents. There has been no linear progression, but rather ups and downs, forwards and backs. It feels like every time we slog through a rough patch–teeth, illness, travel, what have you–it’s followed by about four days of good times. These four days are heaven. Drake is in a good mood, he sleeps well, he eats well, he is fun to be around. Four days are just long enough to begin to shed the memory of whatever the last rough patch was, and to have a small germ of hope sprout that, hey, maybe this parenthood thing is pretty good after all.
Then, WHAM, we’re right back into shrill screams, arching tantrums, and sleep hell for everybody. It’s happened several times lately that G. Grod will be holding Drake and I’ll move near for a hug and Drake will push me away, annoyed. It’s not enough that he’s not cuddly, but he actively rebuffs me.
I’m not sure, but isn’t “dribs of hope alternated with weeks of difficulty” a well-recognized torture pattern?
January 20th, 2005 at 3:30 pm
I don’t think you were stupid to think it would get easier. It probably has, in a lot of ways, but you’re so wiped out it’s hard to see it.
Doesn’t the fact that babies are born with an innate sense of torture timing say a lot about the human race?
January 22nd, 2005 at 4:30 pm
Kelly, amen to the torture timing. I don’t know if you ever read my account of the birth story at my old site at Mama Duck, but I’d been planning to work till my due date, my midwife kept telling me I probably would be after my date. The Monday night before the due date, my husband and I crashed into bed, both exhausted from too-long days in which we’d both been out in the 90 degree heat, and my water broke at midnight. We’ve not rested since. I tell every expectant mom to get off her feet and rest in the two weeks before she’s due.
January 23rd, 2005 at 11:55 am
My little girl used to give kisses like crazy for like a month and half there I couldn’t get a kiss even if I bribed her. Now all of a sudden she’s giving them again. It’s amazing what little things can make me so happy though.
January 24th, 2005 at 7:43 pm
We haven’t gotten any kisses lately, and the hugs have been rare. Sometimes it feels like he knows how to dole out just enough encouragement to keep me hanging in. The rareness of the hugs does make me appreciate them fiercely, though.