Today's post is coming to you from a very weary mama.
I'd love to tell you that we're doing well, that Asher is making great progress, and that we're delighted with how easily sleep is coming to our precious six month old.
But that would not be true. In the slightest.
This is so hard. My heart is breaking hearing my dear son crying his eyes out. How I wish he didn't know how to say, "Mama," as awful as that sounds.
We started gentle and tried the frequent calming techniques as I vehemently opposed just letting him cry. But the truth? Any change to a sleep history that involves nothing but warm cuddles and closeness from Mama and Dada is going to bring tears. There's is no tear-free sleep training.
Everyone keeps telling me to turn down the volume on the monitor, or put on head phones when I remain in the room. But I'm not going to do that. If he's gonna be expected to cry and endure, so am I. I'm an adult and this is breaking my heart, so I'm not going to try to ignore the massive shift that is going on in my son's sweet heart and mind.
If you're looking for tips to help your own kiddo sleep well in the crib, I can't help you. We're still figuring that out, and I don't believe any one method will work for every baby. I wanted to stay near and calm him often, but that seemed to frustrate my persistent little love. It was easier for me, but making things even more confusing for him. 'Why are you right there but won't help me?'
So I've stepped back, and he's right smack in the middle of having his world turned upside down. I believe in his ability to learn to calm himself, and I've covered him with every prayer I know how to say. Outside of that, I'm helpless. And I wait.
This sucks. I don't know how this could go down without it sucking. I'd love to hold him to sleep forever, honestly. But I can't. My body is telling me every day that I just can't do that. It's not about time or other things needing to get done. I care about nothing else right now. It breaks my heart and every cry makes me weary.
This is sleep training an infant. I'm not going to sugar coat it or put an encouraging spin on it because you must know, when you're in the thick of it, there's nothing sweet about this.