Sleep Training - Progress Report #2

At risk of writing about it and therefore having it all fall to shit....

LINCOLN IS SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT!!!!

I just can't keep that to myself.  I am so so soooo happy about it. 

Naps are coming along very nicely too but are definitely not cemented yet.  This means that I'm still a bit of a prisoner in my own home (particularly during the week) since he needs three naps a day and they need to take place in his own bed.  But if I have to be a prisoner then at least I can be a prisoner who is getting more sleep at night! 

Hell yeah!

My mom was over on the weekend and I went out for a couple of hours (FREE! I was FREE!!!).  She put him down for one of his naps (the first person besides myself to put him down since sleep training started) and there was absolutely NO problem. 

I went to the gym yesterday while Steve watched the kids and Steve put him down for his afternoon nap (also a first since nap training) and there was no problem. 

Progress.  Serious progress, my friends.

Next weekend I have tickets to see Grace Potter and the Nocturnals (a little Christmas gift from me, to me) and I really would like the kids to stay the night at my parents house.  I'm so worried about Lincoln and possibly screwing up his sleep schedule.  Also it is a pretty big job to make sure naps are taken at the right time and handled in a particular way and I feel a bit bad putting that on my mom - although she says it's no problem. 

It needs to start happening though - Lincoln sleeping elsewhere, particularly at my moms since she is currently my only babysitter. 

But... right now I'm pretty excited about where we're at with the progress.  It's really very exciting and makes me really quite happy.

Sleep training - progress report #1

I gotta say, sleep training is going really well.  Like, amazingly by-the-book well.  Lincoln is catching on beautifully and his crying is minimal.  I never expected it would go like this. I like to think that it's at least partly because I'd done some reading and some sleep training before officially implementing the sleep consultants sleep plan.  I'm already aware of sleep cues and the white noise machines that I bought for both kids' rooms are also a huge help. 

Sometimes I feel a bit silly that I paid all that money for a sleep plan and wonder if I maybe jumped the gun.  But then I remind myself that there is indeed valuable information in Lincoln's plan that I wouldn't have had otherwise.  And I would have continued to doubt my strategies every time he cried.  Now I know what to do and the plan, written by a professional, gives me the confidence I need to be sure that I'm doing the right things. 

I know it's only day 3 and things could go blatantly wrong at any time - but from all I've read the first 24 hours are the hardest, and they weren't that hard, and it's gotten better each day.  We're working on making him go through two sleep cycles for his naps instead of one.  And we're down to two feeds in the night (this includes his 10:40pm dream feed), with plans of cutting out the middle of the night feed next week.  His crying has really scaled back and he doesn't scream like he used to.

For some reason with all of this, I am more tired than I've ever been.  Even though I'm starting to get a little more sleep. I suppose the stress is maybe catching up with me, and it's probably going to be a long time before I actually feel rested when I wake up in the morning. 

But honestly, it just feels really good that something that is going right right now.  It's been a long time since something positive has happened. I am desperate for something to just go right for us and I'm clinging on to this, our sleep training progress amidst a whole lot of wrong.

Letting Go

I'm going to let go of breastfeeding. 

Oh let the breastfeeding advocates descend upon me and tear me apart, limb by limb, via blog comments.

I started having trouble keeping up with his appetite a couple of months ago and had been supplementing him with one bottle of formula per day for a little while now.  His appetite has only grown and my milk supply hasn't.  I was up to two bottles of formula per day and have recently gone to three. 

I have a love/hate relationship with breastfeeding. On one hand it's so convenient to always have food with me and to never have to worry about packing around bottles and formula or trying to figure out ways to heat a bottle on the go.  And there's the bond.  Yes, I believe breastfeeding my son has given us a special bond, and I have some very special memories of he and I nursing. 

On the other hand, I get a physical feeling of depression/anxiety while I am nursing. It is not caused by my thoughts but from the actual sensation of breastfeeding.  Also, I struggled with being the sole person responsible for feeding my son - especially with a busy toddler to chase.  It is nice to be able to put him in his daddy or his grandma's arms and hand them a bottle and let someone else feed him when he is hungry - which is often.

I have long since put away the breast pump. Never to be used again. Ever. (Good riddance, Motherfucker!)

When I nurse him he is hungry such a short time later - less than two hours.  With a bottle of formula he'll go three.  I need the extra time, I really really do. I have diminishing milk supply which I realize I could correct by drinking copious amounts of herbal tea and taking supplements but I'll tell ya, I've got enough things to try to remember and take care of every day. 

So it seems like we're on the path to weaning.  There have been times in the past that I've thought about it but it made me feel too sad/guilty/not ready.  But I think I'm ok with it now.

Since yesterday...

Well I've gone ahead and starting making changes.  Why wait for January, right?  I'll have a head start on all the resolutioners. 

Sleep consultant is paid for and booked.  Got an email from her and filled out my client history sheet.  I now wait for my phone appointment for our in depth interview and then my much awaited sleep plan sometime thereafter. 

I did not consult with my husband prior to booking her. I know he doesn't see the problem as being as dire as I do - he thinks "we" are making progress so "we" should keep on with what "we" are doing.  When I told him I had spent the money and booked her I was met with the expected passive aggressive response.  Whatever.

Then... after reading all your comments on my last post, I started putting some serious thought into the possibility that I might be suffering from some mental health problems - namely PPD.  Jeez, you guys, I really did not want to go there.  I've been ignoring those suggestions for a while now.  I just kept thinking that once things got better, I would feel better.  But I see that things aren't going to be "better" for a while yet.  And besides, I've had some pretty wicked anxiety attacks lately, along with stupid thoughts, self doubt, guilt, fear, blah blah blah.  All the hallmarks of depression.  I had sworn years ago that I would never go back on antidepressants (having spent most of my 20's on them), but your comments got me thinking about it and that maybe it might not be such a bad idea to get me though the short term.

So I made an appointment and went to see my doc today.

He doesn't feel that I have PPD, but that I do have "regular" depression. Meh, half a dozen of one, six of the other. Not sure what the big diff is but whatever the case, he's prescribed me some antidepressants and I got a side order of Ativan for those tough nights when I'm laying in bed with a racing heart and racing thoughts.  He offered me 0.5mg tablets but I told him he better make them 1mg.  I'm no rookie to this. 

We had a talk about Lincoln's sleeping.  He suggested I hire the particular sleep consultant that I have already hired - which made me feel good about my decision to do that. He said he hired her for both his children. He asked what exactly is happening and I told him Lincoln is awake on average 6 times per night and has a couple of 30 minute naps per day.  He asked if my husband helps out at all.  I told him "Yes, he gets up one of those six times in the night".  He said, "Well your husband is going to have to step up - and you can tell him I said that.  He is going to be doing a lot of the work when you get the sleep training plan and he might as well get used to that idea now." 

Oh how I wish the doc could have told Steve that himself instead of me telling him.  Steve bristled when I relayed the message and then suddenly had to hang up the phone.  I've spoken with him since and he's changed his tune, saying he'll do whatever needs to be done to help.  We'll see.  Talk is cheap.

I'm hoping the antidepressants are going to help me think more clearly, feel stronger emotionally, allow myself to feel less guilt, and not not let stupid little things - like Steve's inability to experience empathy - bother me.

Next up?  I'm either getting a GC for the running shoes I asked for for Christmas or I will be taking more money from our line of credit (that I'm not supposed to use) and buying them myself.  I want to take up running again.  Running made me feel good and I could blare my music nice and loud and just escape, alone, for a while. 


(I've said this before but I love you all so very much and do not know where I would be without you.  Thank you so much for caring and for taking the time to post your so very thoughtful and helpful and supportive comments.  I send a big hug and kiss to each and every one of you.)

Then the wheels fell off

Just when I thought I was getting somewhere.

Steve got a stomach flu. Then Ruby got it. Then I got it and it was baaaaad.  The kind of flu where you leave your dignity in a heap on the bathroom floor. It was so bad I was having flash backs of being in the hospital in labour with Lincoln.  Four days later I am still recovering. In the meantime, all sleep logs have gone by the wayside. I don't know if I'm coming or going and I'm just getting by any way I can which means some co-sleeping has been happening again.

And on top of it all? Lincoln is as miserable as sin and not sleeping worth a shit. The reason seems to be a little white lump that I can see poking through his gums. Not quite through yet, but I expect him to cut his first tooth any time.

Today, I thought I just might be having a nervous breakdown. I am so exhausted both physically and mentally. Maybe more in the mental department.

I've never felt quite so defeated.

Reinforcement

I just got to the part in the book where I realized that I am reinforcing Lincoln's night waking habit by going to him every time he wakes.  Duh.

I know he's not hungry every 3 hours (that's what we're up to now) but I'm afraid to not go to him and feed him because I'm afraid of that awful crying happening in the middle of the night. (Also, what if he is scared and lonely in his bed and he just wants his mom and she doesn't go to him and he decides he can't count on her anymore and so he decides he doesn't love her as much anymore.... Isn't that what a big part of this is, after all??? )

Except last night I was so tired. Exhausted. He went to bed at 6 and I was tending to him at 8pm, 11pm, 2am, then 3am... 

At 3am I was so exhausted and tired of all this sleep training shit that I went to him to make sure he was ok. He was. I was not. I was too tired. My own sleep deprivation is accumulating at a rapid rate and I just couldn't keep getting up with him for no good reason. I'm not using a monitor with him because his room is right next to mine and I can hear every peep he makes.  So I simply closed his bedroom door, went back to my room and turned on oscillating fan to drown out some of the noise and I went back to bed and fell right to sleep.  I remember hearing him at about 4am but he wasn't screaming.

He woke up at 6am this morning and I fed him and he went back to sleep (wish I could have but Ruby was up at 5:45 and sneakily ate a slab of almond bark while I fed Lincoln).

I feel like this might be a breakthrough for us. Particularly for me.  I realize I'm not doing anyone any favors by running to him every time he squeaks. By shutting his door and walking away (if only for 3 hours), I realized that I can actually leave him at night and nothing horrible will happen.

Tonight, I may take the next big step and do the door closing, fan turning on, hiding under the pillows at the beginning of the night, not the end. Time to start reinforcing some better sleep habits.  Enough is enough.

Is this normal?

I decided to hold off on the sleep consultant until I gave sleep training a good try on my own.  And upon many people's suggestions (many of you, the health nurse, my midwife) I bought "Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child" by Weissbluth. I like his theories and I believe in what he says but good Lord I can not read it fast enough. My spare moments are few and far between and I've barely just made it into the 3rd chapter!

Does crying it out ever NOT work? Is there a chance that he may not be teaching himself how to fall asleep but instead just falling asleep from pure exhaustion? And in the meantime am I just fucking up his life? (and mine).

I can only commit to doing it during the day because I have another child to consider and letting Lincoln scream through the night would wake up Ruby for sure and then my troubles would be two fold.  So does that mean that the progress will be slower?  I'm guessing it probably does.

And anyways I've made leaps and bounds with him at night, though it's still far from ideal.  We've got the bedtime routine down pretty good and he's going 3 or 4 (and once even 5!) hour stretches in between feeds.  

Daytime napping is the really big problem right now and that's when we cry it out (he and I both).  I took video footage of him "crying" (SCREAMING) in his crib.  Today he did it for an hour (I checked him at the correct intervals - which actually seemed to make it worse). Now I have the proof I need to exonerate myself when the police knock on my door because the neighbors have called to report a child being tortured.  "Officer I wasn't burning him with cigarettes! I swear! I don't even smoke!"

No really, I did take a video of it.  Is this normal?  This is at about the 45 minute mark. After I took this video I went and took stock of the medicine cabinet to see what I had that might be effective in rendering me to a comatose state. 

(Disclaimer: Baby screaming in video. Maybe don't watch at work or if you are sensitive. )

I played it for Steve and he said..... "Don't do that."

Ruby NEVER cried like this - that is all I have to compare to.  Is that why it seems so over the top?

I just talked to my MIL and she said it wouldn't be good to let him cry too long and that maybe I should try a little whiskey. I told her, what a coincidence because I was actually just thinking about having some.  But apparently she meant I should give it to Lincoln. Talk about old school.  Just for the record, we don't do that anymore .... right?

It is during these screaming fits that I feel like I need professional help.  Both for him and for myself.  I need therapy and he needs professional sleep training.  Or am I just being a big wuss?  You'd think I was the first woman to sleep train her child, I know...

Progress, and... not

So I did a bunch of research. I spoke with a health nurse. I emailed my midwife. I looked at a bunch of books. I talked to girlfriends. I searched the internet high and low.  And what I thought I would do is take little bits of everyone's advice and put together my own little sleep training plan for Lincoln.

And it worked.  Sorta.  Well, a little bit.  The progress we made was in the napping department.  He has gone from taking maybe two 30 minute naps a day to taking two or three naps a day, ranging from 30 minutes to an hour and a half. And he's in his crib for those napst whereas before he was just where ever I happened to have him - bouncy chair, swing, floor, my bed.  There was a bit of protest from him and we had a little bit of crying it out.  But it was minimal and I was feeling terribly smug about myself and my talents as a mother.

My big plan was to get him used to his crib during the day and then eventually, I figured, he would start to get used to it and start sleeping in there at night. I have started putting him down in his crib after a little bedtime routine (which was previously non existent) and two nights in a row he slept for a couple of hours at which point I gave him a dream feed and laid him back down. Then he slept for another couple of hours before waking and me bringing him back into my bed (and then waking every hour or two for nursing).

Except there was the one time at nap time that he did more than a little fussing.  It was a big old cry/scream it out.  And even though I went in to check on him at regular intervals he screamed for 45 minutes before falling asleep and then only staying asleep fro 10 mins. (I realize this is minimal compared to some babies.)

Then last night when I put him down he went into cry/scream mode and it lasted 30 minutes.  He was awake within an hour and then an hour after that. And he ended up in my bed at 11pm.

And I've discovered that I don't know if I can handle this.  My anxiety kicks in full blast when he's screaming. My heart is crushed.  I have all kinds of doubts about what I'm doing and if I'm doing it right or if I'm fucking him up - because I'm doing my own thing and not a regimented, structured plan.

He is so attached to me and I feel like I'm betraying him and hurting him by doing this. He loves me like nobody ever has.  It blows my mind. Nobody has ever been that happy to see me before in my LIFE. He giggles and squeals when he seems me.  He grabs on to me and nestles his head in my neck. The sound of him nursing at night, eagerly drinking and gulping his milk makes me feel like I'm doing something so good for him.  And when he's nursing he reaches up and holds on to me. 

And I feel like I'm ripping all that away from him by making him cry in his bed, alone.

Yes, I realize that perhaps the problem is mine.  Perhaps I have some issues that need to be worked out.  I want us all to be happy and healthy.  We're not that right now. 

I feel like I can't do this alone.  Or even with Steve - who will go along with whatever I choose, pretty much.  (Although he struggles with the crying too, which doesn't help in making me feel stronger)

I feel like we need an intervention.

I am considering enlisting the help of a professional.  A sleep consultant.  A friend of mine used Helen Sands and had great success. My midwife highly recommends her and strongly suggested we use her. She said that it would be a Christmas gift to Lincoln.  And I trust my midwife more than anyone else in the world when it comes to my babies.

The thing is, Helen is really expensive.  And I don't have much money - I could scrape it up of course. But I am such a state of anxiety and self doubt right now I don't know if I should go ahead with it or not.  I feel almost like a failure if I can't get him sleeping through the night on my own. Maybe I could just buy one of the books that have been recommended to me and just force myself to go with it. But Helen Sands does extensive research into your particular circumstances and developes a plan specifically for the individual family.  And there is some support too.  I feel like I could use the support. 

I feel depressed and anxiety ridden this morning.  Don't know which way to go with this. I have so much self doubt no matter which way I turn. I just wish someone else could make some decisions for me and point me in the right direction.

Perhaps I just answered my own question...

Not Today

Going to Ikea on a Saturday isn't something I usually care to attempt with a toddler and a baby but since my mom wanted to have a little day out shopping, I managed to get the kids dressed and fed and diapers changed and loaded in the van and at Ikea by 10:30am despite being up every 45 minutes to feed Lincoln last night. 

As I drove to Ikea I was dreading a little that I would have to spend the day listening to my mom whine and complain and cry about how awful and annoying and terrible my dad is.  Not that she's wrong - I'm just really sick of hearing about it.

When I was walking towards the entrance of Ikea I soon realized that I wouldn't have to hear about my dad all day from my mom because he was with her. 

Normally... whatever. I don't let him get to me.  Or her for that matter.  But today?  Today I'm tired and my patience is low and I'm still thinking about how to dry the duvet on my bed that Ruby poured an entire bottle of water on.  And the first thing out of my dad's mouth is how Ruby should be wearing a hat in this weather. 

Not today, Dad.

And then as I look at my mom she rolls her eyes in the direction of my dad.

Not today, Mom.

And then for some reason my parents think that this is going to be an all day event in Ikea and they are taking their sweet mother fucking time looking at every single thing and taking forever to make a decision on whether to purchase one package of spice jars or two.  They seem to have forgotten that I am on a limited budget as far as time goes and before long both kids are going to need to eat and nap and it will get ugly if they don't. 

My mom asks why I seem to be in such a hurry.  I remind her of the kids.  Oh yeah.

So she tries to go faster but my dad is still lagging.  Taking out his spectacles to read what scent this package of tea light candles is. 

They're red.  It's Christmas time.  Probably cranberry or cinnamon.  Stick your nose in and have a sniff.  Move along. 

There are the typical, "See what I have to deal with".  And "Ugghhhh". And "I feel like I'm being smothered, why can't I have a day out by myself." from my mom. 

I don't know mom.  But guess what?  Not today.

My dad offers to buy me breakfast because it's only .99 cents.  Not today, Dad.

My one purpose for going there was to find a wooden table and chair set for Ruby and Lincoln for Christmas.  The only one I liked was pretty beaten up which means it would end up that way in my house too.  No big deal. I'll find a set somewhere else.

But my dad has to come over and say, "What about that table?" I say, "no".  He points to another one (with giant pink chairs and bright green table." I say, "I'd rather have something that doesn't look like a circus puked in my kitchen".  He rolls his eyes.  "What about that one..." I explain that while I can clearly see ALL the tables and chairs, none are what I want so pointing to each different one doesn't really help me.  My dad explains to me that the one I like is only beat up because it is on display.  I have to explain to him that the wood it is made of is too soft and it would eventually get destroyed in my house too.  Thanks for ALL your advice though.

He won't leave Ruby alone.  He's over the top with her.  He's pushing her in an Ikea cart and spinning her and letting the cart go.  I allow it once.  Twice.  I tell him to STOP when he narrowly misses some other shoppers and the cart crashes into a display.  He whispers something to Ruby about Mommy being mean or wrecking their fun or something.  For fuck sakes not today, Dad!

I tell them privately about Ruby dumping water on my bed.  He brings it up to her and asks her about it, trying to shame her.  I tell him we don't do that.  He asks, does she not need some scolding for it? I explain that the scolding was done when the act of dumping water was done.  Then we move on.  We don't talk about it in front of her and we don't keep bringing it up to her.  We don't want her to think it's cool so she might think about doing it again, nor do we want her to be made to feel bad repeatedly after it's long over.  He says sarcastically, "Oh, that's a good way to handle it" and rolls his eyes. Because, you know, he's an expert on raising kids?  He certainly wasn't involved in raising any...

So for the love of God... not today, Dad.

We get to the checkout and I do the self serve thing because it's super quick and I just want to escape.  My mom chooses the longest/slowest lineup because she "doesn't know how the self serve thing works".  So I wait.  And I wait.  And I wait.

And my dad offers to buy me "lunch" because he can get two hotdogs for $1.  I decline. He sits and eats them himself.  While I wait.

I tell them it was nice seeing them and bye-bye but they want to walk me to my van.  They kindly help me load the kids up while being obnoxious with poor Ruby who just wants to go home to bed (she actually asked to go night-night).  My mom says she would like us all to go for coffee somewhere.... 

Not today, Mom.

I am clearly in no position nor mood to sit in a coffee shop with the two of them who so obviously hate each other, while Ruby is exhausted and struggling to behave herself and Lincoln who has pooped in his diaper and is 15 minutes away from having a screaming fit because he needs to be breastfed - which I do not want to do in a coffee shop. 

Uhhh, not today.

Instead.  I said goodbye and cut the day short and headed home where I ate too much lunch because I was feeling emotional and frustrated and tired and if I didn't stuff food in my mouth, I would be crying instead. 

Today is not my day.

No, not today.

The Plan

Before Lincoln got his first UTI he was, what I would consider to be, a "good" baby.  He was happy and content and he occasionally slept through the night.  And the nights that he didn't, he was only up once between 3 and 4am - giving me lots of rest. (Well, I probably didn't think it was lots at the time but looking back...)

And then just before he turned 3 months old he got that first damned UTI and it's been downhill since then.  He's fussy and he cries and SCREAMS a lot. He's got chronic diarrhea (I rarely change a pee only diaper, but we are on that change table every couple of hours).  And the eating... the eating feels like it's non-stop. Generally he eats every two hours - around the clock.

Because of the constant feeding, he's been sleeping with me in my bed (as previously mentioned).  I did try to get him back in the bassinet but discovered that he's seriously outgrown it.  So if I want any sleep, he stays in my bed.  I don't even bother sitting up to feed him during the night anymore, I just roll over and stick a boob in his mouth.

I'm afraid that... I'm creating a monster. 

I think he's seriously attached to me - which is a good thing.  But can also be a bad thing.  He seems to get quite upset when I'm not around.  I left him and Ruby with my mom for an hour on Monday and when I returned he was screaming. I left him with Steve for one hour this week and when I came home he was screaming.  I am afraid to go too far from him and nobody (including Steve) wants to be left alone with him.

I do pump once a day and give him one bottle a day so that he's used to a bottle.  So technically someone else could feed him if I was "unavailable". (And as I type that I realize that I need to get Steve to be giving him his one bottle a day - so that they both get used to each other a little more.) 

I've decided that I will not try to change anything until after we have an official diagnosis from the urologist and then have done whatever needs to be done to prevent him from getting any more UTIs.  And once that is done and he is healthy I am going to start giving him a little bit of formula in a bottle once a day or so.  And he's likely going to be ready for solids at that point so we'll give that a go.  I'm hoping that since he'll be feeling better and he'll have a little bit of the higher caloric food in his belly, he might sleep a little longer and eventually I will get him in his crib in his own room. My big fear about putting him in his crib is that he's going to be so used to being in our bed with our warmth that he is going to feel like he's sleeping on a cold slab in his crib and  he's not going to be happy about it. (I'm open to any suggestions on how to fix that problem.)

And if I can get all that to happen then maybe, just maybe I will get a little more sleep.  And I might even regain a very small bit of personal time.  And perhaps... just a little bit of my sanity.

The Lately

Last week I had to take Lincoln back to the doctor because the medication he was on for his third UTI was making him very very sick.  He had explosive diarrhea, severe gas and I also assume from his screaming and back arching and kicking his legs that he had the bad stomach cramps that is also associate with that particular medication. My doctor told me that he had sent the pediatric urologist another referral telling him that Lincoln was an emergency and we need him seen before November 29th. 

Then on Thursday I saw what my boy would be like if he wasn't sick with a UTI or having his insides explode from medication.  Oh he was sweet, and happy, and laughing and not fussy and NOT screaming in pain.  It was pure bliss.  I had the best day on Thursday. 

Friday he started being fussy again and I phoned the urologist office myself leaving a message begging for him to be seen ASAP as I know he is going to get sick again and it's only a matter of time.  I phoned two more times on Friday only to get voice mail and have yet to hear back.

Saturday the screaming started again so I packed him up and made the drive to Children's Hospital. Two separate pediatricians looked at him and both immediately said he has phimosis (foreskin too tight) and they felt that was likely the reason for the infections.  I saw him pee and his penis ballooned up with urine before the pee came out so I could see how that would force urine back up into his plumbing - causing infections. 

The good news is that it may not be kidney reflux.  The bad news is that he may need to be circumcised - which I know is a touchy, opinionated subject for some people. I'm not particularly interested in where you stand on that issue either, I didn't want my son circumcised.  End.

The pediatricians told me that having an appointment with the urologist on the 29th is already really soon and there is pretty much no chance that we would be getting in any earlier (which explains why the pediatric urologist's office hasn't returned my calls). In the meantime I have some cortisone to apply a few times a day in hopes of loosening up the skin, and giving him a slight chance of avoiding circumcision.

And it turns out he didn't have another UTI.  But maybe you can understand why at the first sign of pain I threw him in the van and headed to the emergency room.  3 UTIs in 7 or 8 weeks is too many.  And I'm pretty stressy.  I'm on edge waiting for the next UTI to materialize. 

It's taking a fairly substantial toll on this household.  Steve and I are at each other's throats too much. Steve is afraid of being left alone with Lincoln in case he has one of his screaming fits - which means that I don't get time alone to do... much of anything.  Taking 10 minutes for a shower sometimes seems like I'm asking for the world.  Steve's life goes on relatively unaffected and I feel resentful and unappreciated.  Ruby is acting out and cries "Mommy up!" every time Lincoln squeaks because she doesn't want me to go to him.  I'm exhausted from all that and other issues that are pressing - such as my parents marriage (why is that being dumped on me anyways?), my dad's alcoholism / drug addiction / personality deterioration (he is a wreck and destroying any joy of spending family time together), my own self esteem (WHY won't my weight come off???), my loneliness (having a social life was hard with one baby - it's nonexistent with two - especially when one is sick), my job (have I posted about that disaster? I can't remember) and so on...

I know I'm the mom and it's my job to care for my kids no matter what sacrifices it takes and I'm fully on board with that. I also appreciate all that I have in the world and I know how fortunate I am.  I have been really working hard on being positive and being a good person and putting good karma out into the world. 

Some days, though? Some days I wonder if I'm going to make it through.  Yes, I know I will.  I'm tough and I'm resiliant and I love my kids so much and that gives me more strength than I could have ever imagined. But some days... some days just make me question everything. 

Good and Bad

The Good: My vertigo appears to be GONE!!! I am so bloody happy I could shout from the rooftops!!!  I felt like the treatment I had a week ago took care of it but was still getting some weird... wobbles(?) in my head.  They've slowed down considerably but I went in to see my physiotherapist yesterday anyways.  He tested me on both sides and both were NEGATIVE.  Oh I was so fucking happy I hugged him.  I feel so much better - and people have noticed.  Saw the inlaws and my parents this weekend and both commented to Steve how much better I seemed and how my eyes were more clear and how much happier I was.  No shit. Try being dizzy and have room spins for 7 weeks and see how cheerful you feel.  I'm thrilled to be feeling better.  And it's a good thing because...

The Bad: Lincoln finished a 7 day regime of antibiotics last Thursday for his second UTI.  I got a call on Friday from the pediatric urologist saying he had an appointment for November 29th.  A MONTH away.  Then Saturday, Sunday, Monday he was super cranky and the inconsolable SCREAMING was back in full swing.  I brought him in to see the doctor yesterday, was told to get another urine sample - which I brought in for testing today and guess what? Yep, he's got his THIRD UTI. 

HIS THIRD UTI IN TWO MONTHS.

My family doctor said that he is going to personally phone the ped urologist and get him in sooner.  I mean, clearly something is very wrong.  He wrote me ANOTHER prescription for Lincoln but I'm not to get it filled until I hear from the doc as they want him to grow the bacteria a little more so they can test it for something or other.  In the meantime the children's Advil is now officially free flowing in this house.  My poor little guy. 

I am so glad that my head is clear so that I can be on my game for whatever is to come in the next few weeks. 

I'm sleeping with two men...

Scandalous, huh?

To elaborate, the two men in my bed are my husband and... Lincoln.

I started out co-sleeping with him when he was first born because it was easier for me to feed him and care for him when I was recovering from childbirth. At about 2 or 3 weeks I put him in his bassinet beside my bed, and all was well.

Until...

I got vertigo and he got a urinary tract infection.

I brought him back into my bed because I was worried about his fever and wanted him close so I could monitor him.

He got better but my vertigo never really went away. I can NOT sleep on or turn to the left side or the room spins - and that is where his bassinet is.

So he's stayed.

I don't worry about rolling on him and crushing or suffocating him because I am pretty much eye to eye with him in bed and I'm such a light sleeper (especially with vertigo) that any time Steve so much as shifts, my arm shoots out to make sure he doesn't get too close.

Needless to say, I'm not getting a whole lot of quality sleep these days. But then again I don't think that moving him out of my bed would make things any better for my sleep quality/quantity. In fact, I think it would be worse.

But... I feel like maybe I should get him out of our bed. Because while it might be easier now, is it going to be even harder to get him out the longer he's there? Does it matter? Should I just take the easy now while I need it? I mean, it's damn hard doing what I do, is it so wrong to make something easier for me, for now? If he was sleeping through the night it wouldn't be a question - he would be in his own bassinet if not his own crib in his room. But he's getting up at least twice in the night to eat - sometimes more (God help me), and in between his feeds he is restless and he grunts and groans. And if I didn't have vertigo, it would also not be a question - he wouldn't be in my bed.

I'm torn as to what I should do about it all right now.

It could be worse... right?

Despair. I thought I was feeling despair. That's cute.

I should KNOW better than to say stuff like that because sure as shit as soon as it leaves my lips (or my fingertips), then it then becomes a big open invitation for the Universe to say, "Oh yeah? You thought that was bad? Wait till you get a load of this..."

I was diagnosed with severe left side horizontal BPPV. And despite two visits to my family doctor and 3 visits to a physiotherapist who has been performing the *"Epley Maneuver" on me, I still suffer. In fact I am sleeping pretty much sitting up, can not sleep on my left side, must not bend over, look down or up or tilt my head to either side.

That's a load of fun with two little kids.

Like when I bent over to help Ruby put on her shoes and I had an "episode" and fell down.

Or when I leaned over to pick up Lincoln and I lost my balance and stumbled.

And the looks you get when you are standing in line at the grocery store with your kids in the stroller and you rock back on your heels.

If only that was all I was dealing with. But no...

A day after the vertigo returned, I noticed that Lincoln had been super fussy. And warm. I took his temperature and realized he had a fever. One which Tylenol wouldn't bring down. Which is a bad thing. Babies that age are not supposed to get fevers.

So with vertigo, I was in and out of emergency rooms with Lincoln no less than three times. The first night we were in the hospital until 2am. Two different nurses took turns trying to get viles of blood out of his chubby little arm, poking him three different times and digging around in his arm trying to find a vein while I had to hold him down and he SCREAMED and SCREAMED. They gave him a catheter which was NOT a good time either. And before we left they gave him an antibiotic injection in his little thigh.

The whole time I wanted to die inside for what he was going through. And each time I tried to lay my head beside his naked, little, overheated body the room spun hard and I had to clutch the hospital bed.

That night there was pretty much no sleep.

Vertigo is aggravated by fatigue.

Then there was a blur of more emergency room visits, physio treatments for me, doctor and pediatrician appointments.

Eventually it was determined that Lincoln has a urinary tract infection (from **bubble bath?!!??). He will be on antibiotics for a week. Hopefully his diaper rash will clear up soon too.

During this time we found that Ruby had a giant boil (GROSS!) on her ear - which disturbed me greatly but I didn't have the energy to fuss too much about it and it thankfully went away.

Over the past week or two any little bit of normalcy or routine that I had established has been completely wiped out. We are in full on survival mode. Ruby has eaten more meals of goldfish crackers than I care to admit and Lincoln has been reverted back to sleeping in my bed with me at night and has spent far too much time in his baby swing. There have been moments when I was sure I was not going to survive, yet I dare not be so foolish as to label this time with anything such as Hell, Purgatory, or ABSOLUTELY FUCKING BRUTAL. And I dare not say that I am feeling despair. Because... I know that things could be worse. And I do not wish to temp the Universe to show me how "good" I have it right now. So I will endure. I will survive. I will get through this.

And when it's over I am going to be kicking some ass because life will seem soooo easy. Right?

~~~

*The Epley Maneuver is extremely effective in treating vertigo. It is suspected that I had vertigo on both my left and right side which is why the treatments haven't fully worked yet.

**WHY did I not know that bubble bath is a leading cause of UTIs in kids??? I swished Lincoln around in the tub with Ruby while she was having a bubble bath, trying to kill two birds with one stone. The bubble baths are now gone. Nobody gets bubbles anymore - despite Ruby's protests..

I love Lincoln

Have I mentioned that? Honestly, I don't think I have. Not here anyways. And I need to.

I wrote a LOT of posts about how the surprise pregnancy totally blindsided me and how I had a really hard time processing it and trying to come to terms with the fact that I would be the mother of two when at one point I thought I would be childless for the rest of my life. And then how lucky I was to finally conceive and then give birth to Ruby, and how I made myself come to terms with the fact that she would likely be an only child and I had made that seem very appealing in my head, because that's what you do. You learn to accept and love the life you have.

And then I wrote a lot of posts about how hard his pregnancy was and how much I was not enjoying it. And that was so true. I'm not going back on that - the pregnancy was definitely stressful and physically taxing and downright painful and very unpleasant. I am just not one of those women who really enjoys being pregnant.

I also may or may not have posted about how much I was (am) in love with Ruby and how I didn't think I could ever possibly love another child the way I love her.

And now, 9 weeks into this I can not IMAGINE my life without Lincoln. My god I am crazy in love with him. He is my special little gift and I am ever so thankful to have been blessed with him. He is sweet and snugly and a true little mamma's boy. I couldn't be happier. My heart is bursting full.

I think I just needed to make all that clear.