3 Months or the Tale of the Great Regression

This morning I looked at myself in the mirror (it was around 5 am), and I saw a broken woman.  The blood shot eyes, the furrowed brow, and...are those crows feet?!  Wrinkled, sagging, unkept...I wasn't horrified, I was too tired to feel that.  I just took note of what I've become and then continued on with my business serenaded by the music of a crying baby.

Oh Sawyer!  Oh....the tragedy of it all.  At two months you were sleeping seven hour stretches at night! Your peaceful face, happily dreaming of floating down a river of milk in a gondola driven by a giant b**b, brought such joy to my heart. What went wrong?  Why did things have to change?  I thought we were happy together, weren't we?  We had a rhythm.  A flow.  Sure, life was predictable, but hey, I tried my best to keep you interested and engaged.

I should have seen the signs.  You started drooling...alot.  When I offered you the pacifier, you wouldn't suck, but rather gnawed greedily on it.  You became irritable, for no reason that I could tell.  I tried to carry on like nothing was wrong, but then, when you started getting up in the night, that's when my heart sank.  Seven hours became 6, and then 5, and then last night 2!  TWO!  The nightmare.  The horror.  How could you!

I've tried swaddling, un-swaddling, re-swaddling.  I've tried massaging you before putting you down for the night.  I've played calming music and the sound of the ocean.  With socks, without socks.  Rocking.  More milk, less milk.  And still you regressed.

OOOhhh....The Great Regression of June 2011 will go down in history as the worst our family has ever faced.  The total deprivation may be wearing, but we will face this hardship head on and soldier through it.  We will sleep again.  As GOD as my witness,  WE WILL SLEEP AGAIN!