Maple is such a trooper. We have been up a lot these past few nights, trying to get back to sleep after some rude, boobless awakenings. But even without her favorite means of comfort, she manages to have lots of happy moments.
Last night, she woke up at 2am and got a nice warm bottle. Afterwards she fell almost immediately back to sleep. But at 3am she woke up again. I think a dreamy fairy reminded her that she'd been gypped out of the boob. We were up from three to 4:30, at first for some wicked sobbing, and then for playtime. We flew high above the sheets, walked around the bed, and talked for a long while. When she started bellowing again, I wrapped her up in my yellow silk blankie, which made her very happy (although it made me cry like a babe without a boob).
After a while, she went back to sleep, her face buried in the blankie. At 6:30 when she woke up again, she finally got the human pacifier she was waiting for. And she was happy and smiling and beautiful.
We're down to three feedings a day, and will cut down to two in another day or so. I'm sure it will get easier, but right now I am angry and sad and feel like nothing in the world is worth depriving your child of the thing they want the most -- especially when you also know it is the best thing for them. This disease sucks and sometimes I don't know how I'll ever live through it.
I promise to stop this tired refrain soon, and return to my usual sarcastic (and hopefully funny) self. And soon Maple will get back to sleeping at night instead of choking and wailing and sobbing.
Bear with us.
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