Perspectives.
There's nothing more comforting than having your 3 month old daughter screaming in your ear at two in the morning.
No.. I'm not being sarcastic in the least. I was grateful she was around to do so.
Last night after giving up some sleep time to watch X-Men with the boys (Wow, Jean.. just.. wow.) I exhaustedly finished up my pre-bed rituals and headed in to recover up my babies and go to bed.
Haeley was fine, moving a little so I left her as she was cause I didn't want to wake her up fully. She's been having trouble sleeping as well and having nightmares.
Went in to cover Isabella up and get ready for bed.. and froze.
She had turned to her side and arched her back up and then wiggled so that her face was pressed to the side of her crib. For those of you who don't know or may have forgotten, I lost my son, Gaige, to suffocation. He was trapped between the side of the crib and the mattress (it wasn't even two inches deep!) and it was over in seconds. So to see my brand new daughter in that position was petrifying.
(I'd just cried a couple of months ago cause I managed to keep my six year old alive long enough to at least graduate kindergarden. I know that's a morbid way of saying it, but I feel that I can't do anything right. Those of you that know me also know that my perspective is generally optomistic in this situation. Yes, I lost a son, yes I'll never get him back and yes it's Very hard sometimes when I see a woman who has a nine year old son and a 6 year old girl cause that's what I should have. But I view it this way, -yes, I lost a son but I still have my daughter (now daughters who are alive and so am I and I need to be everything for them, not stuck on my sons death. Sometimes though it's hard not to hear that little caustic inner voice go "oh, congratulations, you managed to keep her alive another year, think you can do it again dumbshit? Or what will you screw up this time?")
I finally broke free from my statue like pose to reach out and touch her. It was so very hard. I couldn't hear her breathing, I couldn't see her chest since we had wrapped her up in a bunch of warm blankets. I made contact.. and felt my world start to shatter. She didn't move.
I let out a strangled cry cause usually you touch her or breathe too heavily near her or THINK her name too loud and you wake her up. I had just put both hands on her sides.. and nothing. My hold on logical began to tremble and I don't know how long I stood there before finally getting the nerve to move and pull her down just a little. She finally shifted then and gave a little protest sigh/grumble. I finally lost it and ran out to the hallway to have my little breakdown cause I didn't want to wake her up at all.
I just wanted to let her sleep as peacefully as she could. Sy came over and finally got it out of me what had happened and then got her up for her mid-night meal and sent me to bed after letting me hold her a few minutes. I'd like to say that eased me, but the thought of her trying to get back to sleep and possibly wiggling again just freaked me out more than just letting her sleep.
Needless to say, I had a really crappy night of sleep. Sy, bless his heart, took her both times she woke up and tried to let me sleep when I could. Normally I'm really cranky when I've had this little sleep, but when the baby woke up this morning crying, I was just grateful to have her there complaining and taking me away from my little to nothing sleep.
She's still here. She has the ability to scream and jerk me from any sleep. I can still change her diaper and listen to her "bitch" at me the whole time. Being 'miserable' has never felt so good.
