Where Did My Angel Go!

For the last 6 months my husband and I have counted ourselves lucky. We relished in the peacefulness of having a perfectly content baby. Now, I am not saying she never fusses or cries. She does. However, she only cries when she is hungry or when that dirty diaper has gone unnoticed. Whenever she starts to fuss, it is because she is tired of the bouncy seat or tired of the exer-saucer or tired of rolling around on the floor or just plain tired.

Now granted, she is by far not a perfect baby. She still does not sleep through the night. We haven't fed her at night since she was 10 weeks old but she still wakes up at least once wanting her pacifier. In fact, I would only need one hand and for that matter only a couple of fingers to count the number of times she has slept completely through the night.

My other 2 girls both slept through the night at 6 weeks. Of course the second one took forever to get on a schedule and whereas she slept through the night it took forever for her to actually go to sleep, and we finally had to "Ferberize" her, which was absolutely miserable but worked. Once it was done she was the happiest baby. That is until 1. My first child slept perfectly but was colicky and had a witching hour that lasted from 4-8 for the first 12 weeks. The only thing that made her happy was for me to dance around with her (needless, to say I lost a little weight). I guess you take the good with the bad. The oldest child has turned into the most easy going kid while the second one is all me: dramatic, dynamic, and drumming for attention.

But now this perfectly content baby has morphed into a perfectly pissed off baby. She does fine at the sitter's but when we get home nothing satisfies her: not the exer-saucer, not the bouncy seat, not the floor, not her bed, not even her pacifier! I have to carry her around the whole time. I feel as if I am going back in time to that witching hour with my first child. I thought we were past all of this. I thought the first eight weeks were the worst.

Now granted, she does have a runny nose. So I am sure she does not feel good. Bless her heart. She also is at that point where she is ready to give up the late afternoon nap but can't quite make it yet. Again, bless her heart. All of this makes her very, very, very unhappy. BLESS MY HEART!

So we are humidifying and suctioning and vapor rubbing on feet and feeding earlier and bathing earlier and going to bed earlier, but the transition is about to kill me. My husband received the following text from me while he was on the football field today, "I can't take much more of this...I MEAN IT!"

All I have to say is: Thank the Lord for older children who can bathe themselves.. Thank the Lord for a husband who leaves his job and comes home early. Thank the Lord for a sister-in-law who is watching all three children along with her own so that I can have a break tomorrow afternoon, even if it is at the doctor's office. And thank the Lord for Zoloft, because without that "sweet nectar of life" the question of Where did my angel go? would have sent me over the edge!