Cry it Out Revisited or Will My Baby Ever Sleep Again?

So, as I'm sure you've noticed, because you really LOVE reading ALL about what I've been up to (pah-leeze), that I haven't written in over a month. Or is it two months now?  Sure, I've been busy, but my neglect can really only be blamed on one thing:  Sawyer.

He's been on a sleeping strike for the past two months.  There were times in the last 60 days when he wavered and did take longer blinks, which could more or less count as naps, but I can say, with little exaggeration, that the kid has regressed to newborn sleeping status.  He's really become quite determined (read, stubborn), and I have become quite exhausted.  Too exhausted to do much of anything that requires extended concentration.   For example, I've had to stop several times during this post to think of words like "neglect" and "concentration", and even now, all I really want to do is curl up in a ball, close my eyes, and fall into a deep restful sleep.  

But alas, even if I gave in and saved this post to be finished later, I wouldn't be so lucky as to actually sleep.  (I know, I'm being melodramatic.)  In desperation, a kind of desperation that I have never experienced before, I have revisited "crying it out." Last night was our first real experiment with it.  Sawyer slept for about two and a half hours (the longest stretch in weeks) and then woke up crying.  Usually, I would run in to save him, but last night I let him cry, and cry, and cry for 35 minutes, and then he fell asleep and didn't wake up again for the rest of the night.  So, it was a success, I suppose.   I didn't really sleep, however.  I was worried that he would stop breathing from the trauma and went in to check on him every hour of the night.  But when morning came, I was happy and hopeful that my little boy would benefit from uninterrupted sleep and that certainly I would become a more sane and loving mother and wife as a result. 

So here I am. Alone. It's about 8:15 pm, and Sawyer has been "crying it out" for the last 21 mins and 30 secs...23 mins and 30 secs...24 mins 15 secs...24 mins 37 secs...25 min 33 secs...25 min 45 secs...25 mins 50 secs...27 mins 21 secs...28 mins 16 secs... 29 mins 35 secs,  30 mins 45 secs...31 mins 10 secs...31 min 48 secs...32 mins 25 secs.  That was the longest 32 mins and 25 secs of my life.  I'm glad you could experience it with me.  

It's awful.  It feels like....you know that feeling when you are really nervous for a test or an interview that you are totally unprepared for and then you go into the test/interview only to perform worse than you imagined possible?  You know if you had just prepared you would have aced it, but instead you blew your opportunity?  It's like that...I feel anxiety, failure, and regret all at once.  But instead of a test or an interview, it's because I let my little baby, the person I love most in the world, cry until he was blue in the face, until he's so exhausted that the only thing he has left to do is sleep.  I did this knowing the whole time if I had just gone in to cuddle him, he would be happy, and cozy, and probably back to sleep a lot sooner. 

According to friends and doctors I'm doing what's best for Sawyer.  If he's waking every hour for cuddles or the b**b, he's not getting the sleep he needs.  Neither am I.  In the last two months I've bordered on delirium from sleep deprivation and the hopelessness that comes from bouncing a baby to sleep only to have him burst into tears as soon as I lay him down.  I've threatened to divorce my husband because he didn't get out of bed fast enough to get the baby in my opinion.  I've also thrown a clothes basket full of clothes that I had just finished folding at him.  In other words, I'm a mess.  Sawyer is getting worse, not better at sleep with time.  I'm desperate, so against my better judgement, I'm letting him cry.  I'm told it's not selfish, but it sure feels that way.

Before I had a kid I was very opinionated about the way I planned to parent.  I would say blanket statements like:  I'm never going to spank my kids.  I'm never going to let the TV babysit my children. And most to the point,  I'm never going to allow my kid to cry it out. I've done all three of these ALREADY.  Yes, even spank.  I swatted Sawyer's leg to make him unclench his teeth from around my ni**le.  Parenting has been one lesson in humility after another for me. Everyday it becomes more and more clear that I'm pawing in the dark, trying to grasp on to anything that might help as I stumble along hoping to be a good mom to Sawyer.  Most days I think I'm doing a pretty good job; Sawyer seems happy, and healthy, and developing even ahead of schedule.  I love him so much.  I feel such heavy responsibility to help him grow up happily.  In such a situation, the cost of even the smallest failure feels monumental.  I'm told this anxiety will wane with time.  But for now,  I'll feel this way until Sawyer wakes up in the morning and reassures me with his perfect baby grin and his sweet baby embrace that he still loves me and that he is undamaged from a night alone in his crib.