Stumbling Determination – it’s like ambien for babies

Happy New Year folks…Things are looking up in my household, as my son has made a surprising new years resolution…he has decided to sleep. I’ve discussed the finer points of sleep deprivation in several of my posts and while it has become something of a wonder to me, I will try not to ramble on about my own fatigue… I’m too tired anyways. The little guy didn’t make this turn on his own, and while I’d like to say it was a result of fine parenting and a strong example, the truth is we just sort of stumbled into it.

The day my son was born has quickly become one of the happiest moments of my life. It was such an overwhelming event that I couldn’t fully wrap my mind around it while surrounded by the smiles and sobs of my family. The quality of each moment beyond that day, has defined it in my memory and continues to deepen its meaning.

In contrast to that first day was the second night. Although it would be a complete exaggeration to say that it was an unhappy one, there were moments where my wife and I lost ourselves to a fierce panic of inadequacy. Now, the fear of being unprepared has hidden itself, masked by routine and distorted by the blur of our tired eyes. We’ve traded the sharp pain for a dull ache.

I was warned on the first day that the second would be a challenge. The revolving door on our hospital room spewed white coats and blue booties. Every nurse, doc, and nanny offering up their gifts of advice. Soon we were shrouded in a blanket of helpful pamphlets, hospital release forms, recovery recommendation pages, and poop tracking spreadsheets.

They say that the second night is the time when your child finally realizes that his adventure outside the womb is not just a day trip, but a permanent vacation. He gets cold, is unprotected from light and loud noises, and the soothing rhythmic tone of mothers hart is no longer ringing in his ears. As you might imagine this could be extremely disorientating. So, our cute little baby boy who spent the day quietly cuddled in our arms decided that someone would need to answer for forcing him from his perfect home.

He was inconsolable. The crying lasted for hours. We rocked, swaddled, fed him, took walks, adjusted the temperature in the room, sang comforting songs, showered him with love, but nothing would sooth the relentless cry. The birth had taken its toll and deep into the second night we were quickly reaching the end of our rope. At about three AM a bright-faced nurse, fresh on shift, popped into our room.

She fluttered over my wife and child like a butterfly. Taking vitals and adjusting pillows her jovial face and obnoxiously colored nurse garb were the only things bringing life to the room. She offered a smile and waddled towards the door. As she turned the knob she looked back saying, “Hang in there the night is almost over. You might want to look over the yellow form again, have a good morning.” Then she was gone.

What? Wait… what form? I sorted through the pile of papers. Delirious, flashes of pink, blue, and red jumped in front of my eyes. With more haste I tore towards the bottom and there it was, the yellow form. In great big letters, “Surviving the Second Night!” Where the hell had this come from?! Not only was it written with the most comforting and encouraging voice, it had a list of perfectly helpful tips on managing this transition. If it weren’t for that damn yellow form, I might not be here today at this very keyboard, writing these words. That’s how bad it was, I’m not sure how many more minutes we could of held out. But all it took was a stumble in the right direction and we survived.

For the last several months we have been struggling getting our son to sleep. It hasn’t been nearly as dramatic as the second night, but it’s been difficult nonetheless. New Years day my wife and I were cleaning out a closet and found a book on the floor. We had received so many; this one just took its place in the mix. Its title jumped out at us so we sat together on the couch for a read.

The book claims that any baby will sleep thought the night within two weeks using its methods. Pretty cool right, but I’m thinking where’s my free bathrobe and set of stake knives. Seems way to good to be true. For the last week our son has slept like…well, a baby. It works for him. We’ve had several nights of great rest, but there’s something more valuable to me here.

I have been thinking about these happy stumbles. I was grateful to survive the second night in the hospital and I am equally appreciative of the sleep improvements. During my short time as a father I have been inquisitive, I’ve tried as much as possible to study parenting, to be well informed. To do the best I can for my child and my family. However, no amount of preparation will see me through every struggle. I can’t guess every challenge and my son simply won’t find satisfaction in all my solutions. Sometimes you’ve got a square peg and nothing but round holes.

What comforts me is a growing faith in perseverance. I am still frightened that I won’t have the answers when it matters. But I am confident in my determination. By my own hand, by the hands of those who love me, by a happy stumble, or by something greater, that I have not yet found the words to define, we will survive well. The second night and all the those after.

Book: On Becoming Baby Wise: Giving Your Infant the Gift of Nighttime Sleep

-By Robert Bucknam