Night number one was cake. Feed at 9pm 12am 3am and 6am. If she wasn't awake-I woke her.
Night number two was the same. I cooed to her about what a great sleeper she was and got well over six hours of sleep. This mom thing is cake.
And then, on the third day...Oh dear.
My little one's "schedule" was obliterated--like she could have a schedule...she's five days old. Silly first time mom...
She ate (which is a whole new ballgame since our visit with Cindy at the pediatrician's office) and then the rumblies started. After a very tearful and unsuccessful hour+ of trying to go to sleep we fed again which ended with droopy eyes and an explosion the likes of which we have never seen around these parts. This brought a new diaper and a new blanket with all the commotion successfully waking Claire up 100% and leaving her hungry yet again. Hmmm. As she ate, now 2am, having missed 2 1/2 hours of sleep right there, I'm dozing off/falling out of my chair and thinking "well at least now I know she's getting more to eat and is not dehydrated-whose main symptom is extreme sleepiness (whoops--should have picked up on that)." She's definitely more alert and I, somewhat alarmingly, can hear her little plumbing hard at work. But the food comma sets in ten minutes later and she's asleep. Insert an audible sign of relief right here.
Which brings me up to "real time" if you will. Three hours later = 5am and worried of missing feeding cues I got up to my alarm and picked her up. She hasn't made a peep and as I cradle her in my arms I just can't bring myself to wake her up--be that fear of the pterodactyl cry or just a gut reaction to never wake a sleeping baby. This moment is erasing all the badness of last night--our first "real" night. I'm sure there will be more of them but this is the moment I want/need to remember.
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