Taming a milk monster

For the past week now we’ve had our mix of good nights and bad nights… Although I wouldn’t necessarily classify them as “bad,” just less awesome.

Last night as I was rocking a fussy milk monster I looked over at my husband fast asleep. Then, it hit me, the jealousy — the sleep-deprived mommy rage. “Oh sure”, I thought, “look at him flaunting the fact that he can sleep and I’m running a 24-hour milk bar.” It was only a quick moment but I didn’t like how it felt.

Nursing a newborn is tough, there’s no two ways about it. I’ll remind myself  she’s only little once -she won’t do this forever. Even though I’m sacrificing sleep it’s because I’m the only person at the moment who can soothe this wriggly, growling milk monster; taming her until she falls into a milky stupor when her limbs get heavy and her fingers relax.

And in those few moments when the only noise is her rhythmic swallowing and a few contented sighs I no longer care about sleeping. The only thing that matters is this little sleeping baby cradled to my breast.

We’ll eventually fall into a rhythm, a nightly routine, and until then I have to remind myself the moments of beauty vastly outweigh the things being sacrificed. Besides, if I was sleeping at night, my daytime naps would drastically lose their total awesomeness.
So here’s to all our future late night dates, little Emmie. 
There’s nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice for you.

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