Why Big Decisions are never made in the middle of the night

Anna's middle name should have bee Houdini instead of Rachael (David Copperfield is just too long and not as appropriate). No matter how well I swaddle her, she just lunges out of those tucks and folds and her arm raises above the blanket, triumphant! She would rather swallow her whole fist (which may be seen as an equal show of mysticism and magic... and she is getting close) than be swaddled at times. If she decides she wants to be swaddled, she will, if she doesn't, there is no stopping her arms from popping out.

Regression....faltering confidence.....too many baby books either cheering me on or condemning my approach.

We took a step back yesterday. Only a couple of hour long naps and I rescued her a few times when the voice in my head (aka Dr. Sears from "the Baby Book") told me that I was desensitized to my daughters needs and that I was inhumane in my methods. Now, could I really be that desensitized when 95% of my thoughts throughout the day are centered on her welfare? When I pray night and day that she will be healthy and strong and know that her parents love her? When I read to her and hug her and sing to her and talk to her about our day and give her tummy time (well, from Anna's perspective, there is no love in Tummy time...but it is good for her, like eating her vegetables)?

Well, anyway...she has never had a problem going right back to sleep after her middle of the night feeding. I usually kiss her, roll her back up, and set her down and that is the last of it. Not so last night. In an unusual turn for both of us, I found myself laying in bed listening to her cry. Now here is where the irrationality set in. I found myself being bothered by Richard's breathing because it made it harder for me to hear Anna. Richard doesn't snore, but sometimes his breathing is a little loud (or at least it seemed like it last night). I thought of covering his mouth and nose for a little while (probably not good) or asking him not to breathe for a few seconds (also an unattractive option for him). So instead I just sat there. Its funny, I never felt resentful during labor and childbirth. I never accused him of being t he reason why I was in pain (sorry..."discomfort" for you hypnobirthers). But last night I looked over and I remember thinking "you did this to me....it is because of you that I am now in the position of listening to my daughter cry." One way I thought to get rid of my aggression was throwing my keyboard piano across the room in a somewhat "Hulk-like" gesture. Wouldn't that surprise the neighbors. But instead I just laid there and eventually she fell back asleep after about a half hour.

Today, we start again with greater resolution. And I hope for change and change for hope! My new tactic is to have her bedtime and waketime absolutely consistent everyday! We'll see how that goes.

By the way, one of the effects of moving, is that I don't know where our camera is....I apologize. I know it was me who moved it. It can't have gone far. Anna looks almost the same-- like a long beautiful noodle with dark hair!