I was tired. I was frustrated. I’d nursed her every hour and a half today, every time she started to make that noise–that blood curdling screaming screeching noise to get my attention. I have no idea why she’s suddenly decided this is the way to communicate what she wants. On top of that, her sister wouldn’t go to sleep either and their Dad has been sound asleep, mumbling to himself in dreamland, for hours. So I’d been going back and forth from one bedroom to the other trying to get one of them to fall asleep so I could then focus on the other one. One won’t stop talking and the other won’t stop squirming. I wanted to hold her close and rock her to sleep but she was restless. I put her down and sat next to her on the floor while we waited for Sissy to fall asleep, but she crawled away into the hall. I tried putting her down in her bed and she just screamed.
Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I woke up their Dad and demanded he help me. He sits up and says, “What do you want me to do? She’s just going to keep doing that.” I walked across to the other side of the room, leaned against the dresser and said, “I shook her! And unless you want to wake up to me doing it again, I would appreciate some help. I don’t know what to do! I can’t take it anymore.” He got up, picked her up, and I went downstairs.
When I came back up she was crying out what sounded like “mum mah mum mah” and reached for me. So I gave it one last shot. Tears rolled down my face and onto her little chest as I propped her up on a pillow and lifted my shirt hoping to finally nurse her to sleep. I wanted her close but didn’t feel the closeness. The blood curdling screams she had been letting out had worn me down. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I was sobbing now as I tried to nurse because of the shame and guilt I felt. She didn’t go straight to nursing. She looked up at me, quiet now, with those deep blue apologetic eyes as if to say, “I didn’t mean to make you cry”, waiting for me to offer her my milk. All I could think of was how I grabbed the sides of her sleepsac and shook her against her bed saying, “Stop it! Stop making that noise!” It wasn’t forceful or harmful, but the feeling of angst I got every time I heard that sound. I thought, “I just want to throw her!” And all I could think was what a terrible person I am for even thinking that. How could I let those thoughts enter my head? I thought about PPD. But I’m not depressed. I’ve been feeling good and happy. I love motherhood!
He tried to console me, telling me it’s totally normal to feel that way sometimes and that there’s nothing wrong with me. Everyone has those moments. But it hurts to think that you love your baby so much but one noise can make you lose your mind like that.
My sweet baby drifted off to sleep that last try. I was finally able to rest. When she woke up again 4 and a half hours later, I calmly nursed her back to sleep. She slept another 5 and a half hours before waking up for the day. I know she doesn’t remember what a rough start we had to our night. But I do. It’s all I can think about. So, today we are spending every possible moment snuggling, nursing, and loving.