Awfully Chipper: From the trenches

Ugh. I really hate this part.

Right now is the middle (middle? who knows) of the first night of trying to get Mabel to go to sleep without nursing. So far it's been about 45 minutes since books down, and she's had me, and Daddy, and me again, and Daddy again, and a change of venue to our bed and back again, and a visit to the bathroom, and medicine in case she's teething, and now she's playing on her own but will soon call me back for round whatever this is. There's been a lot of crying and pathetic tears and screeching in genuine misery and wailing, "But I don't want to be two and a half". And that's just on her part.

On my part there's lots of second-guessing and wondering and soul searching and grimacing and furrowing of brow and coming close to tears. I'm not sure how long I will hold out, and I'm not sure how long I should hold out. Isn't it meant to be easier, if they're ready? But what if I'm ready, and they're not, and I do it anyway? Would it be better to just leave her alone altogether? But I'm not willing to make her feel abandoned as well as denied. (The abandonment phase comes later.) (That was a joke.) (Sort of.)

If somebody could just pop back from the future to tell me that in a week's time she'll be going off to sleep by herself (or even with one of us lying beside her) with minimal fuss, I'd know that it's right to continue. But if it comes to a multiple-night battle of wills, with no progress in sight, I know which of us will cave first. (Hint: it's me.) Basically, it's crying it out, even if she's old enough to explain it to and to explain her feelings back to me, and even if I'm right there holding her. And even if that means that "technically" it's not CIO at all. All this crying isn't technical, and it's not crocodile tears - she's truly distressed and miserable, because she can't imagine going to sleep any other way, and into the bargain she's not willing to just lie down and try.

... So now she's sitting up in bed (her own bed) talking to a teddy about his day (which bears a striking resemblance to her day) and wrapping him up repeatedly in a baby blanket. It would be nice to think that she'll just continue to do this till she drops off gently by herself, but I'm sceptical. ... More as it unfolds...

And me again. And Daddy again. It's breaking my heart, but the longer it goes on, and the more I hear myself say, "But I can't give you mumeet," the worse I feel it would be to give in now.

But but but but but

And me again.

...

And I'm here to tell you that I caved. At 9.45 after an hour and a half of crying and talking and a very small amount of lying still while I forgot the words to a song, she was finally so pathetically exhausted but still utterly, stubbornly woeful, that I gave in. So now I feel like I tortured her (or she me, as B points out) for nothing. I thought she'd be asleep in a flash, but it still took 15 minutes - and both sides, even - to nurse her down enough to let me go.

The only thing that keeps me going is the memory - vague as it is - that it was hard with Monkey too. He was younger and less vocal (maybe a better thing, in hindsight, because at least he couldn't break off crying to ask detailed questions about characters' motivation in the book we just read, or to reminisce about a playdate two months ago or the time they had their faces painted in September) but just as miserable, and now he's a champion sleeper. (Which is just as well considering the racket she's been making tonight.) But thanks to the blow-softening power of memory, I can't remember how long it took, or even whether I gave in on the first night and felt as crappy as I do now.

I'll give it a go for three nights. I'll try to go longer before caving next time. But that's all I'm saying, because listening to my baby cry for the one thing I can give her and won't, for the sake of some big-picture fuzzy plan that might or might not work at this juncture, is more heart-breaking than I can do for any longer than that.

Labels: sleep, weaning

3 Comments:

At May 5, 2011 at 4:01 AM , Miranda said...: Poor you. Poor Mabel. This can be such a tricky thing. We too had a few nights of screaming trying with M lying with him - I thought the presence of the da so tantalizingly close would be too cruel - and then we gave up for six months and when we tried again there wasn't a single night of crying. It wasn't an issue. I guess he was ready. Granted I think he was 3 when we tried the first time and 3.5 when it worked, so a bit older. But if you really can't deal with the mumeet every night then there isn't much choice.

Of course, if after a few nights of this, you think you can, then you might want to wait a few months and then try again. I know what Moxie would say - never introduce a big change during a sleep regression and from the terrible 2.5 you have been talking about lately - I'd say Mabel qualifies. (Let me add, parenthetically, that I think Moxie's sleep regressions are a load of bull - just a way to explain to ourselves why our kids are going through a particularly rough patch, which they all do, repeatedly, but surely not on her timely schedule. But I suppose like placebos, if it makes us feel better, don't question it.)
At May 5, 2011 at 4:13 AM , Rosie said...: Oh I'm sorry it's so tough. I don't have any advice really. When we nightweaned P it was more or less at my partner's insistence (I was a woman on the edge) and as such, he took over (slept on a blow-up mattress in the living room with her then transitioned back to her cot) and it took about two weeks. So she was not abandoned by him, but I still felt like I'd abandoned her.

I hope tonight is better for you both.
At May 5, 2011 at 9:32 AM , cmcgrath said...: I'm sorry it was so rough! I remember this so clearly with Iris. She was younger, about 20 months, and I know I caved the first night. Of course I'd rather think of it as knowing my child's and my own limits. ;) I think we did a different kind of stepping down. it took much longer, but there were no tears. I started cutting the nursing short by just a minute or two each night. Not quite letting her fall asleep on the nipple. (The Pantley Method - which is sometimes excruciatingly slow - letting them on and then popping them off endlessly until they finally give up and go to sleep.) We did this until she was only nursing for a few minutes and then one night I told her she could put her hand down my shirt (sounds much weirder to type it out! It seemed like a good substitution. Technically lying, but telling her the nuh-nuhs needed to sleep.) She went to sleep this way for ages. I'd lie next to her, and just being able to touch me and know I was there was soothing enough. Then we went to holding hands. And at that point Oliver could be holding her hand too. This is a much slower process than maybe you want to do, but I liked it because it wasn't upsetting for anyone, and even though the pace seemed glacial at times, I still felt like I was "doing" something.