It was time to pound the park pavement again; I was on a mission both to get my little Lady ZaZa to sleep, as well as try to shake off the tentacles of despair that were threatening. I glanced upwards, and not so much noticing the brilliance of the flawless blue sky above, I instead honed in on a bird struggling to fly. Its wings were flapping away in earnest, yet try as it might, it was going nowhere fast.
I could sympathise; I felt exactly the same way.
The last few days have been on the tougher end of the baby parenting scale. And although I’ve been investigating every possible cause as to whatever it is that is making my little lady unhappy and anti sleep, the answer continues to elude me. Like the bird that was stuck in some immobile vortex, I too feel like I’m exerting all the energy I have, but in reality am just left flailing my arms, continually stuck in the same spot.
It’s hard to keep despair from creeping in. You are working so damn hard to remedy whatever is the problem/s, you pour your heart and soul into seeking solution, but still come up empty handed. It shouldn’t be demoralising, but when you are feeling completely spent, and having nothing to show for it, that is just what it is.
The week has been etched in loneliness which hasn’t helped. It’s always the way after I farewell my visiting family, a little black cloud will descend over me in the days after their departure. The fact I overthink everything of course does not help either, but to do the alternative and not even try makes me shudder. Oh yes, I would love to be able to paint on a sunny smile and “just go with the flow” – for the record, I tried that on Wednesday and Thursday but by Friday when the crying crescendoed in direct proportion to the lack of being able to get her to sleep it was benched.
The voice of reason in my head tells me to do whatever is easiest to survive this stage. But I am so damn scared of creating bad habits – and besides that, sitting around all day long and nursing a baby to sleep is a luxury I don’t have access to.
I need to remind myself she is only 11 weeks old (though it feels a lot longer though at the moment?!). I guess it is because our beautiful baby has teased us with a taste of those days (at times, WEEKS!) of unproblematic parenting, where she self settles, sleeps for long stretches in the day and night, that when they suddenly vanish, you panic and wonder what you have done wrong. You ask yourself in slight desperation, ‘how did I manage to break the previously contented baby?’