All They Ever Want is to be Close to Us

I’m traveling alone for a week and my baby has become incredibly attached, making sleep difficult. I started writing about sleep when I remembered this draft from the spring I never published.

It’s funny how so much has changed and so much is the same. We’ve moved to a new state and celebrated a first birthday. We no longer nurse at night, but still cosleep. Sleep is better in some ways and harder in others.

Instead of writing something new, I’m re-reading this and reminding myself that parenthood is the same lesson over and over again. Slow down, don’t blink, be there for each other.

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It’s 4:30am and I decided to change his diaper. Why would you do that? WHY? His eyes peel more open as I take a cool wipe across his belly.

Before I had a baby I assumed a wet diaper needed to be changed—right? Wrong. You don’t change the diaper at night. If you do, you are at risk of a fully awake baby.

Even though I now know this is standard practice, I feel the urge to give my boy a freshie. Every mom has an obsession. How much food is my baby getting? Are they hitting their milestones on time? My obsession is for the diaper to never be soiled.

So here I am at 4:30am with a baby who is now fully awake, because I decided not to listen to my foremothers. Do not recommend.

If the diaper wasn’t going to wake him, his emerging bottom teeth would. The days leading up to the cut are always the toughest. I wince every time I think about the pain of a tooth slowly growing its way through flesh. Maybe it’s good he won’t remember this.

It’s been a rough night. We’ve been up every two hours. Cosleeping and breastfeeding makes this easier, but  the missed hours of sleep are starting to add up. I’m lethargic and desperate to get him back into a deep slumber.

I take him back to bed and nurse him. While he suckles I think about how he doesn’t have enough “sleep pressure” to fall back asleep at this hour. This term was coined by the thousands of sleep consultants that riddle my instagram for you page. I hate them for monetizing such a standard human function. I hate them for making you feel crazy if a baby doesn’t sleep 12 hours a night. Do you even sleep through the night?

I think these thoughts alongside a desire to open one of their example sleep schedules. If he’s awake at 4:30am, what am I going to do about the first nap? Maybe a beige chart designed in canva will tell me.

He’s pawing at my face and it's clear the jig is up. Begrudgingly, I roll out of our shared floor bed. My hips creak as I lean down and pick up my baby. I look at my husband who has somehow remained in a deep sleep throughout this entire episode. Asshole I think…even though the only thing he’s guilty of is existing and not having a working pair of boobs.

I briefly consider waking him, but it's 2 hours until he needs to be up for work. I officially quit my job a week ago. I’ll take a nap with the baby tomorrow. I decide to let him sleep. God, I’m such a nice wife.  

I walk out into the living room and plop Rex on the playmat. Then, I plop myself on the couch. I’m treating myself to some chocolate dusted almonds and my phone turned off airplane mode. 

I take a breath and think “fuckkkkkkkk thisssssss.” I miss long stretches of sleep. At this very moment, I’m annoyed that I’m a mom.

Rex plays independently while I scroll. I try not to act like a digital zombie in front of him, but I can’t hold myself to those righteous standards before 6am. It’s not long before he’s crawling over to me. I pick him up and bring him to the couch.

He’s peering over my shoulder, mesmerized by the city lights from our 46th floor apartment. There is a fog that blankets the sky and I’m met with a flood of gratitude. Watching little eyes be so interested in what we take as mundane is a wake up call and a gift. This is my favorite part of being a mother. We take in the view for a long time, together.

Finally his little sausage fingers rub on his eyes. Ok, tired again. I take him back to bed, holding my breath as he begins to nurse. Almost instantly his eyes are closed and he’s asleep in my arms.

When were going through the four month sleep regression my husband reminded me, “all he ever wants is to be close to us.” Isn’t that what all of us want? To feel closeness?

His head tucks into my armpit boob pillow. I nestle us from a reclined position to the infamous cuddle curl. I’m so happy to be a mom again. I’m happy to experience this indescribable closeness. We fall asleep until the sun rises.