rough reminder

Dylan,

You (We) had a rough night last night. It took some extra effort to calm you down and put you to sleep at bedtime, but nothing special. Listening on the baby monitor we could hear that you weren't settled in. It sounded more like you were turning over and over again. Then you began to cry. After 20+ minutes I went in to check on you.

You were clearly uncomfortable. I picked you up, but there was no position that suited you. Mom nursed you some more and you went back to bed, but it was only a little while before you were crying again, louder and more forcefully now.

We tried everything we could think of. It was heartbreaking to hold you while you fought to get out of every new position. If we set you down you wanted to be held, but you just kept writhing and crying, so tired and suffering so much.

I offered you a bottle. Twice you pushed it away but on my third attempt you grabbed it with both hands and drained it without pause. And then you went to sleep. It didn't make sense that you would behave like that just because you were hungry, but you were "down for the count" I assured Mom when I crawled into bed, hoping for a good night's sleep before Mom's half-marathon in the morning.

I think I slept almost half an hour before I heard you, again with the sounds of suffering. It gets fuzzy from here. I think I may have gotten another 20-minute nap in my bed at some point but I'm not sure. For a long while we suffered together, searching fruitlessly for any position, action or motion that offered comfort.

I worried we might need to take you to the Emergency Room. It had been hours by now.

I determined/decided that it was a really bad case of gas. I patted your bottom a lot, but if anything that made the screaming and the writhing worse. I held you every which way but upside down by the ankles. I laid you on the spare bed and bicycled your legs which seemed to help --or at least quieted you down several times. I also tried rubbing your tummy and especially your lower back, the latter helping a little sometimes.

On the occasions that you stopped crying and settled in (usually with deep knee bends and big up and down arm swings) you demanded that I remain standing. Over and over I'd sit carefully down in the rocking chair and you would let loose with the howling and the twisting, especially when I'd try to rest my tired arms (still holding you) on a pillow in my lap.

Eventually I managed to sit down. The trick was keeping you tight against my body, which kept steady pressure against your tummy. Along with, of course, all the right jiggles and swings. I fell asleep with you in my arms and slept for almost half an hour, then slowly, groggily, and wearily I put you into your crib for what must have been the fifteenth time that night and you let me go to bed. This was 3:30am.

You woke up at 6:30 as if it were an ordinary day. I was up about fifteen minutes later so Mom could make it to her race. She was "this close" to skipping the event to give me a chance to rest. I'm glad she raced 'cause she blew away her goal of "sub-9 minute miles" to average 7:49 per mile (an hour fourty-two and change) on a beautiful sunny October day.

The night reminded me what rough nights with a baby can be like, and how glad I am that you've been such a successful night sleeper.

Dad