Hannah is teething right now. There are no teeth anywhere in sight, but she’s been chewing. The kind of chewing where she’ll pull her pacifier out of her mouth and chew on it while chewing on her finger. The kind where she’s chewing on both hands at once. The kind where she’s trying as hard as she can to get her whole fist into her mouth and chewing away. The kind where I can tell that those gums really hurt.
Her nighttime sleep also hurts as a result of this. Last week she was up 4 times one night and 5 times the next few nights. Which meant no REM sleep for either of us. The following days were long.
Chris got up with her a few times on the nights where she got up 5 times. I think this is partly because he felt bad for me, and partly to do with the fact that I was so tired that her crying didn’t even wake me up, so he just tried to take care of it himself. One time he tried the pacifier, which she rejected. The other time he rocked her back to sleep, but this only worked for about 20 minutes and then she was crying again.
As I fed her the other night, I thought about our first week home with Hannah. There was that terrible night when she was only 5 days old. She screamed for hours, not crying but screaming. Her back was arched, her tiny body was so tense and we didn’t know what to do. I remember saying to her over and over, “I’m so sorry, I just don’t know what’s wrong. What should I do? What do you need? I’m sorry, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it…”
I stared down at her, eating drowsily, and kept thinking how relieved I am that this time I know, and am able to give her exactly what she needs.
She just wants me, and wants to nurse. Not a lot. Definitely not a whole feeding, but just enough.
Enough to warm her little body and fill her belly up.
Enough to make her drowsy and help her wind back down.
Enough to ease her discomfort just a little.
And hopefully, enough to help her sleep.