Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Teething Bites (As Noah's Shirt Says)

As I am typing I am also listening to my son cry and cry in his crib. It should be nap time. We tried this around 10am this morning too. Unfortunately after 35 minutes or so the crying and whining turned into screaming and shrilling so I went in, scooped him up from his cosy crib and held him for over an hour. Consoling him is easy when he just wants to be held. He falls a sleep quickly when cuddled in my arms and warmed by my body. I would lean over in attempt to lie him down in his crib, on the couch...anywhere so I can move and get some work done. My attempt is quickly thwarted by his high pitched shriek. It breaks my heart to see him like that. He won't even open his eyes or fully wake up, he just makes a desperately sad face and bone shivering scream. Poor baby. My little baby. I wish I could explain to him that this pain will not last forever, that I love him, that he is normal, healthy and protected. Though, here I am thinking of making the attempt to go scoop him up again just to hold him and prove that he is not alone or ignored. At what point do they feel abandoned and at what point do they learn to comfort themselves and calm themselves to sleep (maybe never when in pain). On a normal bases I would not go swoop in and rescue (in my eyes) him from his discomfort, but these last few days I have been challenged. My sleep, my determination, my peace, my sanity, my time and energy all have been challenged.

Oh thank the LORD! He is asleep...

Noah, those days where you laughed and played not stop, when you went to sleep happy and woke up happy. Those days are not gone. I promise.

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