A brilliant, blissful, full and deep night’s sleep. Yes, I got to have one. The lovely Prince Charming gallantly and bravely took on last night’s night shift with the kids. I hid away in our back room under many woollen blankets and slept. I even slept long enough to remember a dream. It was a bit of a spooky one, but it was a dream nonetheless. I used to remember my dreams every morning. Now, I can’t remember the last time. I woke vaguely each time the Pixie (or Birdie) woke but was able to drift back off with a bit of yoga breathing and quiet thoughts.
The Pixie only had 2 wake ups compared to the 3-4 she has with me, and I was wondering if she was more satisfied with a full belly from the formula in the night rather than breastfeeding overnight. This morning when I expressed I expressed a substantial amount less than the amount she drank from the bottle with Prince Charming overnight. Questions, questions. Trying to let it go and just relax with the memory of waking up in the night simply to roll over and go back to sleep again. Absolute bliss!
The biggest difference of all with such a giddy amount of sleep? I woke up feeling happy.
Dreams or no dreams, that hasn’t happened for a while.
Why has it taken 9 whole weeks for me to figure this out? It’s as easy as 1, 2, 3, a, b, c and all that. Someone at mother’s group during the week said (when we were talking about the dreaded ‘S’ word – SLEEP), ‘I just do the whole eat, play, sleep thing and it seems to work.’
I nodded my head in agreement as if I knew what she was talking about, hmm yeah, me too, works a treat doesn’t it? Got home, googled, read, read some more… click! Classic lightbulb moment. You breastfeed, you play with the baby a bit and then they go to sleep! They wake up, you breastfeed them, play with them and… bingo, you guessed it, they go to sleep again. This goes on for the whole day and everyone is lovely and smiley and happy. The whole process takes around 3 hours, eg. from the start of one feed to the start of the next. Yes, yes, you probably all know this already, common knowledge probably, and I’m already feeling a little slow so please humour me.
Time to put all my research into action… yesterday morning Baby was playing on her mat after a feed, gazing up at the colourful birdie hanging above. I was doing the whole, ‘Ohhh look at the pretty birdie!’ *jiggle birdie* ‘It’s a birdie! Yes! It’s a very pretty little birdie! Oooh!’ in that voice. You know the voice I’m talking about, the one you hear mummies talking to their babies in before you have one of your own and you say to yourself: I’m never going to talk to my baby in that voice. But I’m telling you now – you will talk to your baby in that voice. You might as well just accept it. So anyway, the pretty little birdie was jumping around and Baby yawned. I checked the time. She had been awake for 1.5 hours. Right! Wrap time. She whinged a bit at first but within about thirty seconds of me holding her and bouncing around like a mad woman on the fitball (lifesaving device) her eyelids started to droop. I couldn’t believe it! She slept for a whole hour then woke, played (Oh look at that birdie! Isn’t it a funny clever amazing little birdie! Don’t we just love the birdie! Yes we do!), yawned. Wrap, jiggle, sleep! I watched 5 episodes of Sex and the City Season 3 – yep, the whole Aidan thing. I had a little bout of swearing at Carrie and throwing my breastfeeding rags at the telly before Baby woke up again.
Now I’m feeling all amazing and great, like a proper mother who wears an apron and has freshly blowdried hair and has a routine. Yep that’s right, Baby and I have a routine and everything is just fabulous.