Friday, November 9, 2012

Teething? Sassy-pants? Reflux? Oh My!



And then all hell broke loose at the end of September. Suddenly, my sweet, beautiful, rapidly-developing-a-little-personality Girl became a complete screaming nightmare, and it took three solid weeks of legit sleep deprivation (not the "oh i didn't quite get six hours" kind. No, no. This was the "they totally use this as a form of torture somewhere in the world" kind), and detective work on a brain made of mush to figure out what her problem was. And so begins my festive tale of horror for this Halloween season.

 Theory #1 - Teething

Please enjoy an excerpt of a blog post I started to write when I wrongly believed that teething was to blame for the constant hysteria and lack of sleep that had rapidly overtaken our household. Note the tone of exhaustion, near panic. This my friend was only the beginning of the month long battle we were about to endure:
  
"This week has been quite possibly no exaggeration one of the most trying weeks of my twenty-four years of existence. One word: teething. Awful, frustrating, totally unfair to babies, insanity-invoking teething. She has screamed and cried and gnawed and drooled for days upon days. And the little bugger prodding and taunting my little Babygirl’s gums has yet to show its rascally face. Said cowardly tooth has a special affection for making trouble every SINGLE time I want to get the Babe down for a nap. Which results in a flurry of bouncing and rocking and swaying and sing-screaming over the agonizing sounds of teething pain until we’re both so tuckered that we pass out from sheer physical and emotional exhaustion. And I (in my weakened state) let the poor unhappy Bean sleep on me for the whole two hour nap, fearing for all that is good and sane and happy that the child will awaken and scream at me before she gets a solid two hours. And so though a perfectly sound adult, I live in a constant state of fear. Babe on my lap with her tiny solidifying gums just inches away from my beat to heck nipple, trusty sleep-inducing vacuum noise blaring at max volume, back aching, phone and water and all other kinds of sustenance inevitably just barely out of my reach, as I try and “watch” (if you can call it that) some sort of TV show to pass the time via sub-titles...."

That's right it abruptly ends. This is because the Child, who had been peacefully asleep (on Daddy's chest because she would not sleep anywhere else) awakened screaming at the top of her lungs. A terribly shrill shriek of pain and distress. IT LIVES!!!!

Theory #2: Miss Sassypants

After about 2 weeks of this ridonkulousness I had completely had it. like HAD IT. My dear husband started to theorize that our Sweet Peanut was in actuality just a little stinker who didn't like sleeping one bit, but really enjoyed torturing her parents. Like, "haha guys you think you know what's up try this 10 minute nap followed by 3 hours of semi-normalcy, hysterical laughter, and then BOOM I'm screaming like you're pulling my fingernails out. What now?!" And the longer she kept up the mind-bending insanity the easier it became to believe that we were being perpetually punked by our 3 month old. Embarrassing. She was on the fast track to Cry It Out, when sweet angels from above intervened on her behalf...

Theory #3: Reflux

Sunday Morning. After a weekend where we all three of us had gotten (maybe) 7 hours of sleep in 2 days- if you could somehow pick up all 10, 17, and 23 minute sleep sessions and glue them together- we do the unthinkable. We decide to go to church. That's right Sassygirl, you are coming with us whether you like it or not because life cannot be on perpetual pause (the Husband's inspirational get-your-butt's-out-of-bed-girls speech). So off we go looking ROUGH, all three of us, to the point where upon arriving, people were asking us if we were taking her home because she was straight up pale, and already shrieking with cries of exhaustion. Lucky for the Munchkin that we decided to dump her butt in the nursery (heck, we figured, she'll either scream or cry with us or scream and cry with them). And lo and behold, two veteran mamas got their hands on our Bean, said "hmmm she seems like she has a belly ache" and proceeded to educate us on reflux. Ah-ha: REFLUX! Seriously, why don't babies come with a "likely reasons your child is crying like a nutcase" manual?!

So the not-so-short of it is, that Babygirl has reflux, her Daddy went out and got a fancy new sleeper with a cool incline so she (and all of us) can sleep (a bit more) in peace, and Mama had to go on a dairy-free diet (I KNOW. How outrageous is that?! I hymned and hawwed and moaned and cried about it, but hey it works, and I am THAT desperate for peace in this house!). And they all lived happily ever after, with more little-sleep then they had previously been getting, and without eating cheese or chocolate or lattes. Isn't having a baby exhilarating?!

THE END. 

 

  

1 comment:

  1. I love it. I am sorry. I get it. You are a true hero. And i let babies sleep on me - or where the heck EVER would make them sleep. The end.

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