I am just not quite keeping up with my blogging. On the other hand, my house is semi-presentable, no one is threatened by piles of laundry toppling over on top of them, and several snuffly noses seem to be on the mend. So, all in all, not a loss of a week.
Sleep issues abound. Currently coping by doing some co-sleeping. Trying to do that as safely as possible.
However, the other night, nothing would comfort BB. He went to bed at 7:30, but was up again several times. At 10:30, I tried everything. NOTHING. Not pacing, rocking, or (the sure-fire solution) nursing. So, I popped him in the sling and presto! he was immediately calm. It took but 10 minutes of combined pacing and rocking and he was out.
So there I sat, in my rocker, in the dark thinking why didn't I think of this sooner? Worked like a charm? I hope he is comfortable; he barely fits the sling anymore. I hope he can breathe okay with his head in this position. He sure seems settled. etc.
In this midst of this self-congratulation, I realized that I could no longer hear him breathe (he has been kind of wheezy with this cold).
At that moment, I knew I had killed him. Knew it. There was no moment of fear; it was the full rush of responsibility for my child's death, planning the funeral, the aftermath. It took no more than an ear to his face to hear his little breaths, but the damage to my psyche was done. He was fine, actually breathing better than he had in a week. I was not. I bawled.
Apparently, I am harbouring a very powerful fear-of-killing-my-child phobia. Jeez, wonder where that comes from.
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P.S. Email if you need the photo site link again.
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6 comments:
Oh, what a horrible thing to fear, and to believe for that moment. Poor you, and poor baby for having such hard time sleeping.
I wish I had some sage advice, but none of my babies were terribly good sleepers. Obviously, that is not my forte. Baby Girl did better because we invested in one of those hammock beds for infancy, but it is probably too late to take that route for your little guy. Sorry!
I think my kids are actually good sleepers because of the sheer volume of pokes I did to ensure they were still breathing.
For a little hope, I have found that this feeling/fear does not happen often once Sean was about 9 months (although when it does, it's just as intense).
Oh I worry about this when my baby comes. I'm already a mess in this pregnancy and I just know that every time I get up or bend down that I've done something I shouldn't. Can you email the pics to me? wudi27@hotmail.com
How terrifying. It's as if, once the worst has happened, somewhere, deep inside, you can't help but believe that it will happen again.
That's exactly it, niobe. That's exactly it.
When my son was little, I was scared to death of rolling over and smothering him, but it was the only way he would sleep (with me) so I made sure his head was propped in the crook of my arm(pit) on his back and eventually, I felt more comfortable because I knew I wouldn't forget him whilst I was sleeping.
He eventually decided (I think around 5 months) that he was done with the whole co-sleeping thing and needed his own sleeping space.
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