The gardeners came yesterday while I was breastfeeding Allie, so that’s good; they didn’t wake her up. The cleaning people came late at 3:15p, and I’d just put her down for a nap at 3p. When I opened the door, they must’ve seen something in my face when I told them I’d just put the baby down 15 mins ago and I didn’t know what to do, because they said simply that they’d come back in an hour and 20 minutes. I gratefully closed the door. Allie ended up taking that nap all the way until they came back at 5p, and I went in and opened the door and she woke up in a great mood. Mr. W was home by then, so we went to pick up the prescription low-protein cat food from the vet, had some Italian at the restaurant next door to the vet, then went to the local drugstore to buy some diapers. Allie was very well-behaved in public, altho she started crying in the car on the way back, struggling against the carseat. I put her to bed with no problem as she was very tired and ready to go down at about 7:30p when we started her bedtime feeding. Dodo took to the new food seemingly also without a problem, and was a perfect gentleman all night.

Allie, however, decided to have 2 middle-of-the-night feedings for the 2nd night in a row. The first one was very early, 10:30p. The next one was also very early, albeit in the morning, 4:50a. I comforted myself saying it was 3:50a to her. One of my now biggest fears regarding her nights happened at her 10:30p feeding. Altho she was falling asleep eating and did fall asleep after on the Boppy, and I let her sleep for a minute or so in hopes she’d be really tired when I moved her back to her crib, the moment she hit the crib she was wide awake and upset. I walked out when I heard her suckle her fingers in a self-soothe attempt. As soon as I entered the bedroom, she was all-out wailing and flailing. I went back in, trying to get her thumb back in her mouth. Nope. Patted her comfortingly. Nope. I had to pick her up as she screamed and cried and struggled against me. I patiently held her and walked her a little bit in her room, the way I put her to nap. She tried to get into the sleepy position and suck her thumb, but seconds later she’d pull her thumb out, stiffen up against me pulling away from my body, thrash her legs, and scream and cry again. This happened over and over. I considered maybe she had her nose stuffed from the crying and couldn’t breathe well with her thumb in her mouth, but then she started settling for multiple seconds at a time so that I could hear breath come in and out, so I knew she was fine. After 15-20 minutes of this, Mr. W poked in and asked if I wanted him to bring the swing upstairs into her room. I shook my head vehemently, still trying to keep things very calm, quiet, dark, and as commotion-less as possible so she doesn’t get used to hyper-interaction in the middle of the night. Mr. W couldn’t see me in the dark and assumed I didn’t answer, so he went downstairs and lugged the big electric swing up. I whisper-hissed at him, as he came in the room, “No, no no! Too much commotion!” I think I offended him as he went back out. She finally settled into the sleepy position, sucked her thumb, and fell asleep on me. When I put her in her crib, she sighed and moved, curling onto her side putting her thumb back in her mouth, and as I snuck out, I heard her suckle. By the time I was back in our bedroom apologizing to Mr. W, she was asleep. Looking back at the app where I’d recorded her feeding and her sleeping, the time between the end of her feed and the beginning of her sleep was about 30 minutes, but it felt like hours of screaming, struggling, sweating.

I was still exhausted by the time she cried again at 4:50a. Mr. W was already up, having gotten ready downstairs for the gym to allow me some time to sleep, but the cat was also up and moving around, meowing here and there (not yowling), and could be convinced to come to me to be petted and quieted. I was watching the baby flail around on the monitor and then yup, she started crying. I went to her room as Mr. W was getting ready to leave and I started feeding her, terrified that she’d refuse to go back to sleep like earlier. When I heard the garage door open then close, I suddenly felt very, very alone in the dark with the baby who now felt more like something I feared than something I confidently nurtured. Please, please, please, go right back to sleep afterwards, I prayed in my head. I was terrified, and so, so worn.
She went back to bed in her crib without much protest beyond the initial whimpering.

I went back to bed, also, and did not sleep well. I continue to have what feels like auditory hallucinations of the baby crying as my brain drifts thru the gap between wake and sleep. I would wake up with my heart pounding, reach for the phone to do a camera check while praying that I’m having an auditory hallucation. Most of the time this morning, I was. She slept well and I again had to debate whether I ought to start moving her wake time incrementally earlier. I finally gave up trying to sleep and I got up to get myself ready for the day, and went in her room at 7:50a, 10 mins earlier than yesterday. She was wide-eyed, so I don’t know if I woke her by opening the door, or if she was already awake. She smiled sweetly at me with her gummy mouth open. I did my usual, “Good MORning, sweetheart!” as I opened her blinds, and we started our day.

Things always seem less desperate in daylight, but I am hanging on day-by-day, very very close to total burnout. I feel a slight nausea, I feel very close to tears. I find myself spacing in the middle of playing with Allie, or in the middle of feeding her. It’s hard to plan ahead, and I don’t know what to do a lot of the time, but I still try. Yesterday, as her nap reached the point of her next feeding and she was still asleep, I started pumping with the handpump. I was so stressed I got no more than drops out of the side that normally produces a lot, and I switched sides and had just gotten out 2 ounces when she woke up. I had to stop mid-pumping, get her, prepare and bottle-feed her, then I tried to finish pumping while she was in the walker/activity center. Got nothing out of the other side still. I gave up and put that bottle in the fridge, washing the pump parts with her cooperation upstairs as she hung out in the Boppy and watched me a few minutes. The day before, I pumped while she was playing in her high chair and she lost patience just minutes in and started wailing. But I have to pump to replace the feeding I’m giving her by bottle in order to keep my supply up; and I have to feed her a bottle a day to keep her bottle-trained. It’s just hard on my own. I don’t know how people do it with multiple young kids.

Mr. W has been eager for us to go to the fertility clinic and sign the release papers so that they can stop storing our remaining 3 embryos. It costs $50/month for the storage, and if we choose to not pay it anymore, we can tell them whether to discard, donate, or use the embryos for research. The fertility doctor we’d worked the most with wanted to meet Allie, and I found out he’s in next Wednesday, so I guess I’ll take Allie down there and see what our options about the embryos are. I think it’d be nice if a mixed-race couple trying to conceive could use our “A” quality embryo(s), but I’m not sure if it works that way. Plus, I don’t want some kid in the future to have some identity crisis knowing genetic mom and dad are out there somewhere. I believe the soul that comes thru is just borrowing the vehicle of a body to do what it needs to in this lifetime, so the soul that goes to the parents was meant to be there with those parents, regardless of what the genetic makeup of the soul’s body is. But that doesn’t change the fact that a donated embryo situation could still cause a very normal human reaction of wanting to know where he/she came from in terms of genetics. Plus, I’d wonder about Allie’s full genetic brother or sister out there. I think I’m now undecided what to do. Which is why I need to talk to the doctor. Maybe donating the entire embryo to a couple isn’t even an option.

I’m just rambling now because I’m scared to let this connection go. This blog post. This cyber-touching of the outside, to other living adults, even though you guys don’t touch back at the same time I reach out.

I can’t wait until Susanne becomes available. I don’t think being a stay-at-home mom is an option for me mentally at this point, even tho that’s still the preferred situation in Mr. W’s opinion. Work is going thru major layoffs and moving people around, so it may be barely recognizable when I get back there. I think I’m losing my reporter, as the County is eliminating all court reporters from Civil trial courtrooms. 🙁 My reporter Louise has been a big sister to me for the last 10+ years, full of encouragement, level-headedness, advice, empathy, and education on life/nutrition/exercise. It doesn’t mean she’ll vanish from my life, but it sure makes returning to work less something to look forward to. Rebecca had said last November that work isn’t going to lay me off, but I’ll be working maybe 2-3 courtrooms. I’d thought that was rather impossible at the time; how can one judge’s clerk work for multiple judges in fully-functioning courtrooms? It’d be impossible. But after receiving a budget memo from the courts, and after hearing from coworkers what the budget meetings have been, it looks like that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Never would’ve expected that, even with Rebecca saying such.