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I could have bashed my baby’s head against the wall I lay in bed, my jaw and hands clenched with anger, thinking, “if I go into his bedroom I am going to bash his head against the wall and then at least there’ll be silence and I can get some sleep”. I was referring to Cameron, my 7 month old. Cameron was born in 2003 and was a text book baby. He slept right through the night from 4 months, but started teething at 7 months and started waking at night. Being first time round parents we didn’t know why he was waking or what to do. We panicked and our instinct was to pat Cameron on the back. This put him back to sleep, but unbeknown to us we were implementing what Baby Love terms a ‘sleep prop’, something a parent has to do to their baby in order to get him back to sleep. There are various sleep props - rocking, driving around the block, bouncing on a birthing ball - the list is endless. Our weapon of choice was patting. I could have bashed my baby’s head against the wall I lay in bed, my jaw and hands clenched with anger, thinking, “if I go into his bedroom I am going to bash his head against the wall and then at least there’ll be silence and I can get some sleep”. I was referring to Cameron, my 7 month old. Cameron was born in 2003 and was a text book baby. He slept right through the night from 4 months, but started teething at 7 months and started waking at night. Being first time round parents we didn’t know why he was waking or what to do. We panicked and our instinct was to pat Cameron on the back. This put him back to sleep, but unbeknown to us we were implementing what Baby Love terms a ‘sleep prop’, something a parent has to do to their baby in order to get him back to sleep. There are various sleep props - rocking, driving around the block, bouncing on a birthing ball - the list is endless. Our weapon of choice was patting. Initially it started off with just a few pats taking perhaps 20 seconds, but over a few days this gradually increased until if we stopped patting, Cameron would turn around to see where we were. If we were making our way to the door he would start crying, but as soon as we lay him down and patted him he would calm down and start nodding off. It was so frustrating that I ended up with a sore jaw because I found myself clenching my teeth every time it came to bed time. I dreaded it with a passion and every opportunity that I had, I would pass the buck and ask Miles to put Cameron down. I wanted nothing to do with Cameron. On average we were up 7 times a night to pat him back to sleep and I honestly believed that this was what my life was going to be all about. I was amazed at how someone so small, could have the power to destroy my life. In the dark hours of the night, when I sat patting him on the back, I felt no bond and no love towards my baby, instead I was filled with such burning resentment and such intense dislike that my feelings started to scare me. I felt completely dissociated from him, like he was someone else’s, and in my mind I would refer to him as ‘it’. I would glare at the back of his head with such force that my eyes would start watering, and often I’d find that my patting would become harder. There were many times when I felt afraid to be left alone with Cameron because all I wanted to do was fill his open mouth with my fist. I didn’t have a clue as to how to fix it and no one I spoke to seemed to know what I should do. I felt completely helpless. It was soul destroying. It was life destroying. It was exhausting. Welcome to the best form of torture - sleep deprivation. I couldn’t function at work, and each morning I’d drag my lifeless body out of bed and drive to work, sometimes not even knowing how I got there. I would sit behind my computer in a complete daze, trying my best to appear busy. I couldn’t function as a wife. Emotionally I felt numb – I felt dead inside and intimacy was the last thing on my mind which of course led to more stress between Miles and I. I became withdrawn, my energy levels were flat and my outlook on life was dark. Even though Miles was a very involved dad and did get up to Cameron at night, to some extent I started resenting him because I was the one who got up to Cameron most of the time. Conversation in our home was limited to what was necessary to say and I went into ‘robot mode’ – I did what I had to do in order to survive, but I did it without thinking or feeling. Miles and I started arguing over silly, insignificant things and I snapped at everyone, even my dogs. Our social life was non existent as we knew we would be up through out the night, so the sooner we went to bed the sooner we could get some sleep. My relationship with my son was volatile. At times I wanted to be with him, but most of the time, if it wasn’t necessary that I be with him, I would do my best to avoid him, and this was because not only did I resent him, but because he was a miserable and fussy baby as he was so tired. Often I would catch myself just starring at him wondering, is this what being a mother is all about – sleepless nights and a miserable baby. My life is over and it’s all because of him. Who on earth would want to have a baby?? I felt angry, frustrated, hopeless and completely desperate. I felt drained of all happiness and of life, and I intensely regretted having had a baby. I longed for my ‘old life’ back – when I wasn’t a mom. I would talk to other moms who couldn’t stop gushing over their babies. They were off to Moms and Babes, Baby Gym etc, and I couldn’t fathom where they got the energy from. I could barely muster up enough energy and enthusiasm for life, let alone having to face a full hour, just me with my baby! It was in the early hours of one of many mornings, when I went through to Cameron’s bedroom for the umpteenth time to pat him on the back, that I grabbed his chubby little arms, looked him in the eyes and shouted – “I can actually shake you until your head falls off”. Fortunately I didn’t. Instead I dumped him in his cot, stormed out the bedroom, climbed into bed, shoved my face into my pillow and screamed blue murder. In my mind’s eye all I could see was Cameron, and this only intensified my screaming and my punching of the pillow. Where I got the energy from I don’t know, but I knew if it wasn’t my pillow it would be Cameron. A few hours later, as Miles and I were getting ready for work, we were arguing (again), and out of pure exhaustion and frustration, I lost control and threw my eye shadow at him. It shattered on the floor and a deathly silence fell over us. It was so eerie and everything then seemed to happen in slow motion. Miles turned to me and in a very calm voice, slowly said ‘You need help”, and left for work. I stood there in shock, my body cold yet clammy, my breathing short and shallow, my head buzzing. I was mortified at what I had just done and horrified I had lost control like that. There and then I knew I had to take back control of my life – I needed help. Our lives were being controlled by a 7 month old. We slept when he slept. We got up when he got up. We were walking zombies and we merely existed. Were we enjoying parenthood? Would I have another baby? No and definitely NO. Miles and I attended a Baby Love workshop which focused on routine and sleep. It was a very informative and powerful workshop and that same day we implemented the program. It was a Saturday, and I remember thinking that even if the lady had told me to ‘hang your baby by his toe in a tree, I promise you he will sleep’, you would have found a 7month old hanging by his toe in a tree in our garden. Fortunately we didn’t resort to that, and fortunately I never physically harmed my baby, but I now understood how a parent could. It’s not because you don’t love and care for your baby, it’s because you are caught up in the quagmire of sleep deprivation. Everything becomes overwhelming and you feel you are drowning, not coping. You are unable to think clearly, you loose total perspective on your life, you have no control over your days and nights and your actions become totally irrational. You become fixated with wanting to sleep and the frustration level rises to where your head starts to pound that you think it will burst. Baby bashing, a term Baby Love uses, or the urge to baby bash, is a reality and far more common than we realize. Through implementing an age appropriate day time routine and sleep training, by the following Saturday, just 7 days later, Cameron was able to put himself to sleep unaided and remain asleep. I’m not saying it was easy, but we focused on the bigger picture and we persevered. We finally had our lives back. We had structure to our day and night. We felt confident. I was well rested and full of energy and wanted to spend time with Cameron as he was a pleasure to be with because he was well rested. As a result of my experience I got involved in Baby Love in 2004, and in 2007 I bought the company. Sleep deprivation is torture to the parents and to the baby, but it doesn’t have to be that way. If anyone can relate to my story then you need to know it is okay and it doesn’t mean you are a bad parent. Your situation can be fixed and you can start enjoying the parenting experience like you should be. Cameron is now 5 years old and we have never looked back - and I had another baby! A well rested baby = well rested parents = a happy family, and we are truly a happy family. Jacqui Flint Mom to Cameron 5 years and Owner Baby Love Cell: 082-851-2141 Email: This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it Web: www.baby-love.co.za |