Week 4…

…in the Little Viking House.

It’s a late post this week as it feels like I’ve had no time today!

Lovely Boyfriend went offshore on Sunday so now it’s just me and the wee man for two weeks (plus the odd night here and there with the Porglets). At times I feel like everything is going well,  and others less so. As I write this,  I’m definitely at the less so end of the spectrum.

Evenings are hard. We thought we’d cracked the evening upsets by feeding him more. It worked for the last two nights Lovely Boyfriend was home; not since then!

I wonder if all new mums are paranoid, or if it really is just me? The wee man has been very unsettled after his feeds these last few days, generally after a feed he drops off for a nap but either burps, farts or hiccups himself awake. Sometimes he simply goes red in the face and silently screams (I know that probably doesn’t make sense but it’s the only way I can describe it). Then he lunges for his dummy and sucks frantically, before breaking off with a gulp and repeating. To me and my frazzled mind it’s all scarily familiar to Minimus (minus the actual posseting and odd projectile vomit)…silent reflux seems a distinct possibility to me.

But then he lies on his playmat and is happy; we’re even getting what looks like real smiles. Then he has a feed, floats happily in his bath, feeds some more, lies down and screams 20 minutes later, not stopping until he’s upright, cuddled and sucking his dummy. It’s like a Jekyll and Hyde baby and I really don’t know if I’m imagining the milk dribbles, sneezing, frequent hiccups and the gagging,  gurgling, half-choking (come on baby, start breathing again)…

When I was on the phone earlier with Lovely Boyfriend, this wasn’t even an issue, but after another lonely few hours of unsettled Little Viking and the bedtime screaming (only sleeping now because I popped him in his car seat despite all my fervent declarations that I wouldn’t resort to such tricks, he’d have to learn to settle himself and cry it out)…well, my view on things is rather different! I’m trying very hard not to project how the rest of the night will turn out (fortune telling is never a good thought distortion!)

Sigh…Lovely Boyfriend will likely tell me gently (please note, gently!) that I’m over thinking the problem and focusing on the negatives, which I am. It would be nice if he could smile and coo at bedtime!



Week 3…

…in the Little Viking House.

Sleep. It’s easy, right? You get tired, yawn a few times, close your eyes and fall asleep. You don’t need to pass any exams in order to do it. Piece of cake.

Nope. Not when you’re a baby. The Little Viking spends two or more hours every evening crying and screaming at ultrasonic levels because he can’t master this simple act. During the day, no problem. Bedtime, problem.

It’s only when sleep becomes difficult that you realise how important good sleep actually is. Sleep deprivation is a fast-track route to declining mental health, which is why I’m glad Little Viking then sleeps from around 10.30pm until 3, even 4 am, and then again until around 7. In fact, the only time he’s properly awake for more than an hour at a time is that witching period of the early evening. So, however draining it is hearing him cry (and, after the umpteenth soothing period has failed and he ends up crying even when you’re holding him, you end up having to leave him to it or cry yourself), it could be worse.

I hate hearing him upset and not being able to do anything to fix his problem. My perfectionism cries out too. All those negative “should” thoughts creep in. Am I feeding him enough? Am I feeding him too much? Is he overtired? Is he too awake and actually wants to play? Am I ever going to get to finish a cup of tea?