Family care
chase · Thu, Nov 5, 2015Milo’s sleep has been more fitful for the last few nights. Perhaps it’s because she’s readjusting to California and to the end of daylight savings time, but whatever the explanation, she’s writhing and moaning and waking more in the night. Misty is bearing the brunt of this because Milo still isn’t comfortable with bottle feeding, so when Milo woke again at 5am this morning and wouldn’t go back to sleep after a feeding, I took her.
There’s still no magic trick to calm her. Changing it up — no matter what tactic you change from or to — seems to help, perhaps because the change alone tells her that something is different and that you’re trying. This time I carried her into the living room and bounced on the ball, and before long she showed some renewed interest in sleep. I wanted to sleep too, so I awkwardly and delicately arranged the two of us on the couch, keeping one warm hand under her body while slowly arranging my blanket and pillow with the other. Eventually there was no part of my body contorted too oddly, and eventually her body and breath settled into a steady rhythm, and we slept on our sides, her in my arms, until sunrise.
Meanwhile, in a still room on a bed by herself, Misty napped soundly.
Even when Milo woke with her usual mix of joy and constipation, I kept her quiet (and Misty asleep) — by sitting up, leaning back, and laying Milo down with her back on my chest. She continued to feel my warmth as I firmly massaged her belly in a U shape, and in no time her diaper was full.
It was the closest I’ve been to understanding what it’s like for Misty to breastfeed. There’s something oddly satisfying about caring for Milo’s needs so directly, so physically. I really feel my love for her more than ever before, and I feel what it means for us to be a family.