While Andrea and I still have our sleeping challenges, things are getting easier. She's started sleeping through the night again. She did this for a while before reverting back to waking to eat every two hours to increase my milk supply. Once my supply was meeting her needs she continued to wake in the night like it was some sort of game. It took a really late night and crying for forty-five minutes, both of us, to break her of the habit. Putting her down for naps, which is typically my biggest challenge has been going really smoothly. I swaddle her naughty arms-- naughty because they pull her binky out of her mouth and make her cry-- and then we sit in my rocking chair and rock back and forth as we borrow each others warmth in our chilly little apartment, and Andrea's eyes start to droop shut. I slowly lay her into her bed and shut the door quietly. Ten minutes later I breathe a sigh of relief as feel the triumph of another successful nap in the making. How I have waited for this day!
This morning she woke up smiley and when I retrieved her for her breakfast she was talking up a storm, telling me all about her dreams with her hums and squeals. We curled up on the couch in my little nest of make-shift armrest pillows and I watched the morning news. Okay, I lie. While it seems a little more grown-up to watch the morning news I watched an informercial for the Jack Lalanne Power Juicer. Andrea nursed until she was asleep again, which is unusual for her, so I put her back in her bed and then I crept back into mine. Two and a half hours of napping later we both awoke overjoyed to feel rested.
When the time came to put her back down to for a nap around noon she wasn't having it. I swaddled her up and sat down in our chair as she began to wail. I stood up and she stopped. I sat down and she began again. So I stood. I held her more upright with her right ear pressed against my chest. She listened to my heartbeat as I swayed back and forth like a high school dance. I nestled the tip of my nose on her little fuzzy head and inhaled her sweetness. She sighed and melted until her eyelids surrendered.
As I walked her to her crib I soaked in the moment. I wanted to hold her small body forever. But she won't stay small forever. She's going to grow up, and someday she will think I'm lame and totally out of touch with reality. Like, whatever. But right now she thinks I'm everything and I think she's pretty something and I don't want to lose moments like this. . . moments of calm sighs, sleepy hums, and dancing my daughter to sleep.