The baby has been super cranky for over a week. The previously wonderful sleeper sometimes is tough to get down and wakes frequently in the night. So we are back to nursing to sleep.
Just today it occurred to me to check for molars. And sure enough, she has them coming in. On both sides.
Teething is a bitch. I mean if you think about the sheer mechanics of it- teeth must push their way through the gums to emerge. It’s not like the gums part like the Red Sea or any other similar gentle making of the way. No, the teeth forge a path, basically slicing through your gums. The term “erupting” is very apt, I find. And it’s not like your teeth are super sharp and they slice through like butter. It certainly must take a lot of force for these blunt objects to come through.
All of which to say, no wonder the baby has been a fragile, quivering, clingy ball of need these past few weeks. The constant crying has been hard. Something about incessant wailing makes me impatient and irrational. They like to talk about sleep deprivation as a torture technique, but perhaps the constant air raid siren of a cranky baby is one as well.
We do a lot of comfort nursing.
Right now she has managed to fall asleep on me. Her little pink mouth has disengaged from my nipple, and her dimpled hand clutches at my shirt. My left arm is starting to dampen from her sleepy sweat, even as the weight of her head makes that arm start to tingle and go numb. I peer at that sweet head and see the sweat glistening, as if someone had sprinkled craft glitter in her hair.
Part of me is annoyed. It was supposed to be my “night off”, my child free evening while the Husband and kids cleaned up from dinner. I had a to do list that I was going to bang out tonight. But instead I am here- Mama Mattress, human body pillow. Molds to your body shape! The ads all enthuse.
I could use some water.
There is a cricket in the room somewhere.
The eight year old did set me up with a footstool and a pillow before she moved in with her evening. That was nice.
I listen to the sound of the Husband put the other kids to bed. Laughter and stories.
I read a chapter of my book. Answer some emails. Fill out a questionnaire for a baby study at the university.
Much as I feel the burden of being a her bed, every time she stirs, I think, “Please don’t wake up!”
If being nestled here in my lap as we sit in Daddy’s comfy chair… if this means that she is resting and not in pain… then I guess I don’t mind.