The Hardest Yet

The past four months have been difficult in the sleep department for Sophia and me. She is the world's lightest sleeper. I'm not kidding. She awoke this morning when I was slipping ever-so-quietly into my pants from across the entire room. Ahh, the soft rustle of jeans rings like the morning rooster's crow in her delicate little ears.

So I decided it was time to try something new. She needs to be on a good sleep schedule before Poppy arrives, or this momma will go cuckoo. I realize I have some time, but now is a good time to start. I would like to get some sleep during this pregnancy.

On any given night, I nurse Sophia and she falls asleep in my arms. I hold her for awhile, then gently ease her into the crib. Whether or not she remains asleep is very hit-or-miss. Sometimes she does great all night. Mostly though, she wakes up immediatly. The process starts all over again, and by the middle of the night I am so exhausted that she usually ends up in bed with us (where she is guaranteed to sleep soundly all night. Happy baby. Happy mommy.)

So tonight, I nursed her and cuddled for a few minutes. While she was still drowsy, but not asleep, I laid her in the crib. Of course the crying started immediatly. I quietly walked toward the door and allowed her to cry. I sat in the living room, listening to my baby cry her eyes out. It took everything in my being not to go in there and rescue her from her peril. Every ten minutes or so, I walked in, stuck her nuk back in her mouth, gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and reassured her of my love, then turned around and walked out again. It was seriously one of the hardest "mommy moments" yet. Soon the tears started flowing down my face as well. Gary came downstairs and prayed with me. I am so glad that God sent him down to encourage me. I needed it. (Jared is out helping a friend tonight, or he would have been by my side too.) After what seemed like an eternity, the moniter stopped screaming at me and the room grew quiet.

She has been peacefully sleeping for 30 minutes now. I am encouraged, and exhausted. Listening to your child cry like that and not running to their rescue takes a lot of strength. But God is watching over her, and teaching us both through the process. I love my little girl. I hope she always knows that.