Braeden decides to Cry It Out
It seems that my son has decided that he will cry it out, with or without my blessing.
Cut for length.
Before he was born I took a silent, solemn oath to uphold all of the tenants of attachment parenting so help me god, till death do us part, and so on. I actually became confused when I saw folks out with strollers. What? No sling… such a pity, if only they knew the alternatives. Well it turns out that I hated the sling. That went right out the window. Yuck. I’ve been much more successful with some other attachment things, not because I’m some kind of martyr for the cause but because they have, so far, worked out well for me. I breastfed exclusively until 7 months, kept breastfeeding and added home mushed organic veggies twice a day. We’ve been doing cloth diapers since he was born, granted I’m cheating, I got those fancy schmancy fuzzy bunz. We also co-sleep.
At first, no biggie. Much easier than getting up and waking up and breastfeeding him all night long. As he’s gotten older, it’s been a bit more challenging. Folks give me those funny looks. For some reason everyone on earth wants to know if he’s sleeping through the night. He’s not, and if I think about it, really think about it, this doesn’t bother me. I made a choice to bring him into bed and knew the advantages and disadvantages that came with that choice. I would like to start thinking about convincing him to not get up and search for the comfort of a nipple every hour and a half. That’s kind of a lot for 8 months. But this is something we’ll work out together, because I am adamantly opposed to the barbaric idea of leaving him alone in his crib to wonder if he’d ever see us again. Even if I wanted to try it, I couldn’t bear to hear him cry without doing whatever I could to make it right.
Except that he has other ideas. Some time around 6 months he started crying it out - no matter what we tried. He simply wouldn’t go to sleep some nights without screaming. He’d scream like crazy, refuse to nurse, flail about, claw at his face, tear at his ears, rip at his hair. It was really freaky. I didn’t know what to do so dad would take over. I never would have thought of the solution, but dad would just hold him in his lap and immobilize him. He’d hold his little hands and arms down, and hold him close and sing in his ear until he screamed himself to sleep. It sounds awful - cry it out parents who have witnessed it made it perfectly clear that they saw it as bordering on child abuse - but it was clearly what he needed. He’d scream and then he’d sleep. Eventually I was able to use the cuddle/swaddle as I like to call it. It sounds less violent than it sometimes felt.
For a while, though, I was very worried that we were doing something wrong. Maybe if I nursed him more. Maybe if we held him more. Maybe if he got more sleep during the day, or maybe less sleep. I felt guilty all the time. I read all kinds of books, even cry-it-out books - I figured if he’s going to scream anyway, why not get a good nights sleep out if it. But I kept deciding to follow my heart, and my heart didn’t say let him scream on his own.
This afternoon, I was putting him down for his second nap. He showed all the classic signs of being tired. I nursed him first. Then I put him in his crib. He lay there and cried to himself for a while and settled. Then he started crying again, louder and louder - he needed me. As I curled up next to him, though, it became very clear, that he wasn’t asking me to do anything. He seemed comforted a bit that I was there, but he didn’t try to get up, he didn’t reach for me, he didn’t root around for a breast, and in fact when I tried to pat him he pushed me away. I just lay next to him as he cried, fussed with his blankets, and worked it out for himself. I found myself a little sad, and a little proud, and a little unsure of myself. My heart is telling me this is the right thing to do - even if it’s hard for me. I guess this is one of the first times I have to watch him learn to do things on his own. The hard way. But I’m not just watching. He knows I’m there. In case he needs me.
Cut for length.
Before he was born I took a silent, solemn oath to uphold all of the tenants of attachment parenting so help me god, till death do us part, and so on. I actually became confused when I saw folks out with strollers. What? No sling… such a pity, if only they knew the alternatives. Well it turns out that I hated the sling. That went right out the window. Yuck. I’ve been much more successful with some other attachment things, not because I’m some kind of martyr for the cause but because they have, so far, worked out well for me. I breastfed exclusively until 7 months, kept breastfeeding and added home mushed organic veggies twice a day. We’ve been doing cloth diapers since he was born, granted I’m cheating, I got those fancy schmancy fuzzy bunz. We also co-sleep.
At first, no biggie. Much easier than getting up and waking up and breastfeeding him all night long. As he’s gotten older, it’s been a bit more challenging. Folks give me those funny looks. For some reason everyone on earth wants to know if he’s sleeping through the night. He’s not, and if I think about it, really think about it, this doesn’t bother me. I made a choice to bring him into bed and knew the advantages and disadvantages that came with that choice. I would like to start thinking about convincing him to not get up and search for the comfort of a nipple every hour and a half. That’s kind of a lot for 8 months. But this is something we’ll work out together, because I am adamantly opposed to the barbaric idea of leaving him alone in his crib to wonder if he’d ever see us again. Even if I wanted to try it, I couldn’t bear to hear him cry without doing whatever I could to make it right.
Except that he has other ideas. Some time around 6 months he started crying it out - no matter what we tried. He simply wouldn’t go to sleep some nights without screaming. He’d scream like crazy, refuse to nurse, flail about, claw at his face, tear at his ears, rip at his hair. It was really freaky. I didn’t know what to do so dad would take over. I never would have thought of the solution, but dad would just hold him in his lap and immobilize him. He’d hold his little hands and arms down, and hold him close and sing in his ear until he screamed himself to sleep. It sounds awful - cry it out parents who have witnessed it made it perfectly clear that they saw it as bordering on child abuse - but it was clearly what he needed. He’d scream and then he’d sleep. Eventually I was able to use the cuddle/swaddle as I like to call it. It sounds less violent than it sometimes felt.
For a while, though, I was very worried that we were doing something wrong. Maybe if I nursed him more. Maybe if we held him more. Maybe if he got more sleep during the day, or maybe less sleep. I felt guilty all the time. I read all kinds of books, even cry-it-out books - I figured if he’s going to scream anyway, why not get a good nights sleep out if it. But I kept deciding to follow my heart, and my heart didn’t say let him scream on his own.
This afternoon, I was putting him down for his second nap. He showed all the classic signs of being tired. I nursed him first. Then I put him in his crib. He lay there and cried to himself for a while and settled. Then he started crying again, louder and louder - he needed me. As I curled up next to him, though, it became very clear, that he wasn’t asking me to do anything. He seemed comforted a bit that I was there, but he didn’t try to get up, he didn’t reach for me, he didn’t root around for a breast, and in fact when I tried to pat him he pushed me away. I just lay next to him as he cried, fussed with his blankets, and worked it out for himself. I found myself a little sad, and a little proud, and a little unsure of myself. My heart is telling me this is the right thing to do - even if it’s hard for me. I guess this is one of the first times I have to watch him learn to do things on his own. The hard way. But I’m not just watching. He knows I’m there. In case he needs me.