The first night he was born, the nurses kept bringing Ronan into my room.
“He won’t stop crying. Sorry, hon. Maybe you should try to nurse him again.”
This went on only every ten minutes or so, until I just said, “Oh, alright already! Just sleep in my bed with me!”
Thus began a new circle of life for Mami, parent of “The Baby Who Never Sleeps.”
Ditties (the nickname for my boobies), sleep. Remove ditties, wake up. Ditties, sleep. Remove ditties, wake up…and on and on and on. This lovely cycle was broken up by intermittent hours of filming infant Ronan with one of those old clunky cassette video recorders propped up on the couch at various times in the a.m., when only bats, owls, and other nocturnal animals roam the earth.
I began to look like one of them. My eyes were black-rimmed. I was in a zombie-like daze, walking into walls and forgetting proper hygiene (like actually washing myself), and I was obsessed with finding ways to get him to actually sleep without being attached to the ditty.
The Ferber Method = cry until vomit, then cry more. Never stop crying. Vomit. Cry.
Daddy walking and rocking, then slipping Ronan quietly into his crib = bolting upright in 0.001 second flat. Screaming. Vomiting.
The No Cry Sleep Solution = Ha Ha Ha Ha, yeah right.
For two years, I just caved and gave the ditty. I learned how to sleep like a fugitive in an escape tunnel, one arm had to curl around the top of his head. Ditty had to be fully accessible. Pillows were aplenty, and positioned just so, to support my frozen frame. As long as I didn’t move – at all – Ronan would sleep, nurse, sleep, nurse, and maybe some nights, he wouldn’t wake up for his 4-hour a.m. stretch.
When I finally decided to wean him (at over 2 years old – that’s another post in itself), a new cycle began in the life of Mami.
It was called, “The Child Who Never Sleeps”
Snuggle with Ronan in his bed until he falls asleep. Wrench your body out from under his digging feet at 1 cm per hour. Finally get out of the bed. Lay in your own bed. Roll over to finally sleep and immediately see a small figure hovering over you.
Walk back into child’s room. Repeat. 4 nights out of the week, shoot footage of owl child awake with brand new fancy digital camcorder.
Flash 5 years forward, and I am still walking Nosferatu back and forth to his bed. Still a zombie.
Everything from melatonin, vigorous exercise, magnesium, joint compression, and a trillion other things have been tried.
I have pretty much resigned myself to the idea of being an old, crabby, gray zombie. Then we’ll call him …
“The Man Who Never Sleeps”
Feel free to send me your suggestions, please, for the love of GOD!
P.S. Don’t let this picture fool you! I tried to trick him up by putting his little brother beside him to snuggle…maybe they’ll find comfort cuddling each other, and he won’t come looking for me!
Yeah, right. 5 minutes after I took this picture, he was hovering over me…THE CHILD WHO NEVER SLEEPS!!!!!