Sleepless in Parentland

Sleep.  Paramount for any human being to function cogently, but most essential and desired, yet indisputably unattainable by every new parent. Am I right?

Mega-million books written by psychologists and doctors alike, magazines, websites, forums and chat rooms, dedicated to recommending proven and effective tips and remedies for grabbing shut-eye.  Proven? The remedies must work then, right?  So, why do I find a gazillion sleepless parents perusing the same sites, night after night, posting the same status update, that they’re at  wits end, as I am at five am in the morning? 

For the last seven days, we’d both experienced the same agonizing episode. My helpless little girl—her lips curled downward into a deep frown, hot tears rolling down her cheeks like a broken dam, biting down on her fingers that she’d jabbed into her mouth, probably from a tooth coming in.  And each time she wears a desperate look for me to relieve her pain, and all I can feel is anger followed by guilt. Anger, because the thought that brings me to tears each time, as I look around the bedroom when I’m slammed with fatigue and in need of dire help, is that I’m always managing it on my own, and I never envisioned that I would be.

By this morning, I’d exceeded my threshold.  I knew I had to break the maddening, unhealthy, anticlimactic cycle, or risk going—if I wasn’t already—insane and delirious from sleep deprivation.  And I needed to make a massive improvement immediately, because I could sense shadows of resentment towards my innocent, precious daughter, when frustration was the true culprit.

You see, she been sleeping with me, after she outgrew her swinging bassinet at seven months. I read somewhere that I was setting her up for failure by letting her cuddle with me and fall asleep, but it worked, and I was able to write on my laptop from my bed. What could be more productive? It was multi-tasking at its best. 

She was sleeping with me until it became a little dangerous, since she began crawling the second week of her nine month.  After she fell off the bed (yes, she was fine), as a temporary solution I made her a make shift/play-pen/fort-like bed, by connecting two sofa chairs.  It was safe, fun, playful and she seemed to love it.  It was so comfortable that she preferred to stay in the make-shift area, (of course, I was on the prowl searching for crib/bed), instead of going off and exploring in her walker, which she absolutely loved to do before.  And she spent more time, playing in a non-mobile, seated or sleeping position, which made it easier for her to snooze most of the day, at her leisure.  And I have to admit I liked the idea that I didn’t have to be after her constantly as I was when she was fleeing the scene of a crime in her walker.   I needed to get some writing and housework done, and it seemed easier, until the nights came around.  Her crib was delivered two days ago, and she really enjoys her space.  I can tell.  But her sleep pattern hadn’t changed a bit, just her area did.

I’m only ten months into parenting, a novice, but it has been a very intuitive ten months. I know every parent believes that reading up on every possible scenario is the best method to bypass all the dreadful aspects that follow along with the joy of parenting. BUT, there’s a very simple fact that is being disregarded; every child and situation is unique, and all the advice in the world from distinguished educators and fellow restless parents is not to be trusted with the same faith as the Bible or the Bhagavad Gita (Hindu sacred teachings).  You can check off and use your child as a guinea pig, as I and just about every sleep deprived parent has, but in the end, trust this—there is always going to be a ‘but’.  Every episode will appear similar as one you’ve read online or in those self-help magazines and it might work temporarily, but in due time, there’s always an ‘oh-oh, well that didn’t work’ that comes up. 

It’s one thing to be ignorant of textbook practices, but relying solely on them facilitates the chance to overlook your gut instincts, causes failure to recognize all approaches may not be what your child accepts or needs, and most importantly, breeds hasty conclusions that there is something seriously wrong with your child, you or your parenting skills.  Mothers, parents, guardians of all types have quick reflexes and usually attack on natural instinct to protect a child.  And that is what most sites, magazines and self-help books forget to impress upon.  The truth is, everyone is created differently, so yes, the basic check-offs are needed to guide new parents, but the rest has to come from common sense, listening to your heart and doing what you feel is right for your child, so long as its harmless (and legal).   I’m no psychologist, but I don’t see anything wrong in creating unorthodox routines or test-run ‘go-as-you-learn’ practices that aren’t noted anywhere, but that work perfectly for you and your child

I’ve often felt a bit self-conscious when applying my methods in public, or while leaving my door open for the short time that it is. (Here, in India, a common customary is to literally keep your front door open from the time dawn rises till it falls).  I don’t practice my methods in private out of fear, but mostly to eliminate opportunities for comments and avoidance of awkward confrontations.  The adults in this culture don’t feel shy in the least imposing their must-do practices, and they most definitely make a spectacle when they see me, or anyone, apply an unconventional one.  

After last night’s restless escapade, I knew keeping her awake during the day was the only sensible approach, so she would naturally become exhausted and sleep for most of the night.  And after we awoke mid-day, I placed my temperamental darling in her walker, and I didn’t take her out of it for four hours. Now, I know that seems cruel, and even the nosy neighbor, who peeked through while I ran downstairs to do my laundry, told me so.  But I’m her mother, and I’m the one who has to suffer along with her, so I think that grants me the right to be a little mean, especially when I’m sure it will enable both of us to have healthier sleep behaviors. 

When she slumped over, and rested her chin on the rim of the walker, I knew her legs were tired, so I picked her up and before she closed her eyes, I took her out for a walk to a nearby market.  It refreshed her for another hour, but there was another hour to kill, so I kept her standing up, holding onto the coffee table.  Of course, yes, she was damn tired.   I knew she wanted to plop her behind down on the floor badly, or sleep, but she was too afraid to let go, so she walked around the table for about half hour, crying and whimpering.  She stared at me the entire time, and I’m sure she wondered why I was torturing her. Of course, I felt like Joan Crawford in “Mommy Dearest”, but this tough love wasn’t harsh as making her clean the bathroom floor with a toothbrush. After I fed her, she became even fussier, rubbed her eyes and whimpered persistently, and it was the perfect time to give her a hot bath and an oil massage.  Finally, at 10pm, after I gave her a few drops of children’s ibuprofen to ease the teething pain, I let her rest her head on her pillow in her bed, and minutes after, before she finished even an ounce of milk, she was fast asleep.  She slept for five full hours.  I wish it was for longer, but I’m sure that will come in due time.  Maybe she’ll be able to sleep for a full 7-8 hours a night. That would feel like a day at spa for me!  Practice makes perfect, right?   She woke up twice, because she was hungry, but she went to back to sleep effortlessly.  So maybe my unconventional method is working?

What are your thoughts on overbearing neighbors that have a mouthful of advice to offer, using the excuse to drop in and say hello, but in truth are simply checking up on you? And how do you respond to them? Are you tactful or do you directly tell them to but out? What are some of your unconventional, unorthodox training methods? How do you sweep aside the burning factor that you would have been able to share the sleep deprivation with your partner/ baby’s father if he was still actively involved?