Birthday

Today was my birthday.

I don't know that I've ever had such a non-event birthday. I honestly kept forgetting what day it was. Being at home so much leaves me confused about the date.

David said he'd try to take the afternoon off to come home and give me a break. He got home about an hour early.

Fortunately, Robbie decided to give me the best birthday gift ever- 2 rounds of 2 hours of sleep each. Then I even got another 2 hours earlier tonight. That's 6 hours in a 24 hour period. Amazing.

David did bring me a lovely cake (my favorite- chocolate cake with cream cheese icing) and a sweet card. Then made me dinner. Then offered to tend to the baby, but Robbie was actually sleeping quite well and didn't require much tending, so he slept in the pack-n-play next to me while I slept.

My dad callled to wish me a happy birthday in the midst of my 2nd spell of sleep. When I answered the phone groggily, he didn't say much. He eventually asked if I was sleeping and when I said yes, he started laughing. "Oh, baby still not sleeping huh? Heh heh heh." He thinks it's hysterical that I get no sleep. Paybacks are hell, basically.

When I was a kid, I used to think that when we dreamed we really did go somewhere. So when I'd wake him up in the morning, I'd climb up on him, pry his eyelids open and say "ARE YOU IN THERE?!"

Apparently this is my retribution. A preemie with severe reflux who can't tolerate anything but breastmilk, but won't eat it direction from the source, who doesn't just eat every 2-3 hours, but also screams for at least 20 minutes after every feeding and can't be allowed to sleep too long even when he WILL sleep because he's so underweight that he has to eat.

I don't doubt that he was tired. But he also wasn't the one nursing me. (Brief history: My mother exclusively breastfed me for a year. I never took a bottle at all. She then abandoned me when I was 2 and didn't call again until I was 27. My dad raised me.) And even when he was the one getting up with me, it was past the point of being every 3 hours every single night.

And frankly, even it HAD been as bad as this, why would you laugh at me? Is it really funny that I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown at any given moment? I'm so tired that my brain is befuddled. That I have to put him down and walk away for 5 minutes but I'm so frustrated that I want to YELL at my 5lb baby? Yeah. HYSTERICAL.

So I yelled. At my dad. Happy birthday to me, I'm such a peach.

I should probably call and apologize. And let him do the same. But for today, I pouted.

My mother in law called to say happy birthday just as Robbie finished eating- so of course he was crying. She reacted appropriately "oh he's upset. Happy birthday, I'll let you go." She called back later to make sure things were better. Then offered to come this weekend and let me sleep. She's coming on Saturday.

Thank God for my MIL.


Also thank God for the mom of a preemie with similar issues as Robbie who emailed me today. She managed to successfully breastfeed- eventually. I needed the boost.

I also watched Oprah today. If you saw it, you know- it was about overwhelmed mothers. It started with a woman who'd left her daughter in the car all day. She died of heat stroke. I was sickened at the thought, but felt less judgy than I usually would.

Toward the end of the episode, they discussed sleep deprivation. There was some relaxation/zen guru who said "Where are the husbands? What good is a husband is they don't help."

I bawled.

Then I bawled some more.

God spoke to me today in several ways.


I saved the episode on the TiVo and will try to get David to watch the end of it. Today was the day. Today he was helpful. My "gift" for my birthday. It's a shame there has to be an occasion for him to step up, but at least he did. We know he has it in him.

Anyway, as usual, it's time for Robbie to eat. He's been up since about 12:30 (it's 4am) so hopefully he'll have minimal pain and maximum sleep. He's allowed to sleep up to 5 hours once a day. I'm probably asking for too much, but I'm hoping since he's been up for so long that I can get maybe 4 hours out of him this morning.

Wish me luck!


--Trish