Sunday, June 03, 2007
Ages and Stages.

Wendy posted something that made me reflect on my own life. In her post, she discusses her boys growing and becoming less dependent on her. Well, mine's along the same vein. Sort of.

I started "sleep training" my Zalman about 2 weeks ago (a euphemism for letting him cry himself to sleep - sigh). It's killing me on so many levels. He's 11 months old, and I've long been wanting him out of my bed. I was waking up with his feet in my face! And it wasn't only that. I'd nurse him to sleep, and if I wasn't going to bed too, I had to listen like a hawk so he wouldn't crawl off the bed (we had a few close calls).

Anyway, we bought a pack-and-play and started him in it. And then I'd pull the Ferber drill: I'd let him cry for 10 minutes and then comfort him. Ten minute increments: cry-and-comfort. I hated that - It killed me. I kept reminding myself of the safety factor: as much as I had my own reasons, I had to make that one paramount.
He's in-routine with it now, and generally doesn't cry when I put him down. Sometimes he just turns on his side, and goes straight to sleep. And he'll sleep all night! Victory! basically killed our nursing relationship. I wasn't nursing much anymore, just at night and at get-to-sleep times. But now that he's not in my bed, and since I'm not nursing him to sleep anymore, it's over. I wasn't prepared for how terribly sad this makes me. I'm shocked, almost. I don't remember feeling like this with my other ones.

Sometimes I want to just pull him into bed with me. It was such a yummy feeling to snuggle next to him and nurse, falling asleep to his baby-snores. But I can't turn back. I feel it would be detrimental to him, and usurp our new routine. I still love him to death, and smooch him all day long. But this part of our lives is, sadly, over.

I fear I'll always miss it.


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My Photo Name: Fancy Schmancy Anxiety Maven
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