Ouch
I've been a full-fledged mom for a little over 9 months now, and it's taught me an amazing amount of things. Things about myself, about my own parents, about my husband, about life. I rather expected that.
What has surprised me is how some of the simplest, everyday things can be so heartwrenching.
Tonight, as on other nights, it was holding the line on bedtime. I decided some time ago to fix a final bedtime. There's a window where she'll normally go to sleep, but after a certain time, if she's not actively feeding and there's no other real need, she goes in her crib. But no matter how clear it is to my head that all her needs are met, that she needs sleep and I need to take care of other matters before I can sleep, listening to her cry in her crib can be agonizing to me. The very idea of my child falling asleep in distress goes against my maternal drive to comfort and soothe. My usual compromise is to stay in the room - read blogs, e-mail, play solitaire - until she's settled or asleep. It comforts me to be there, and I don't find myself second guessing as much whether I missed some trauma that's upsetting her.
For whatever reason, that ache ran a little deeper tonight. And I found myself wondering how much deeper my heavenly father has ached for me at times when I cried out for what I thought I wanted.
What has surprised me is how some of the simplest, everyday things can be so heartwrenching.
Tonight, as on other nights, it was holding the line on bedtime. I decided some time ago to fix a final bedtime. There's a window where she'll normally go to sleep, but after a certain time, if she's not actively feeding and there's no other real need, she goes in her crib. But no matter how clear it is to my head that all her needs are met, that she needs sleep and I need to take care of other matters before I can sleep, listening to her cry in her crib can be agonizing to me. The very idea of my child falling asleep in distress goes against my maternal drive to comfort and soothe. My usual compromise is to stay in the room - read blogs, e-mail, play solitaire - until she's settled or asleep. It comforts me to be there, and I don't find myself second guessing as much whether I missed some trauma that's upsetting her.
For whatever reason, that ache ran a little deeper tonight. And I found myself wondering how much deeper my heavenly father has ached for me at times when I cried out for what I thought I wanted.
Labels: Motherhood
posted by Coastal at
9:25 p.m.
4 Comments:
Aww. Before reading your post, I always believed that it was good riddance if a baby goes to sleep crying.
Now I know how horrible it must be to go to sleep when in such distress, that too for a mind as tender as that of a little child. A truly touching post.
Thanks!
By
Ramit Singal, at 11:13 p.m.
Welcome, Ramit, and thanks for commenting
By
Coastal, at 7:17 a.m.
At first the crying really bothered me too. I then learned from my doctor and other older moms that sometimes it was just excess energy or being overtired. Sometimes it is separation problems but not usually. I just figured that if it lasted longer than 10 minutes then a brief re-tuck in was in order and sooner than later they drifted off into sleep. I think this was one of the toughest parts of my experience with T's age.
By
Anonymous, at 5:18 p.m.
Thanks for the reassurance. What the head knows and the heart feels will take a little more time to come together.
By
Coastal, at 8:21 p.m.
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