The Nightfeed

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The nightfeed.  It cruelly plucks you from your sleep at 3.00 AM.  Causing you to cry, utter profanities, slam doors and plot divorcing your other half.  Happy times.

Cry of the wild.

It’s 3.00 AM.  I’m asleep.  The type of sleep that borders on being knocked out, I’m that tired.  Suddenly I’m awake.  Just like that.  There’s a snuffle next to me.  And it’s not Daddy Pig.  It starts off innocently enough.  So I shut my eyes tight.  If I go back to sleep, this will go away.  But instead it builds up to a single cough.  My muscles contort in anticipation.  Please, just let me sleep.  It reaches a hacking cough.  All I want is sleep.  Then a wail.  It’s over.  Before it crescendos into a full blown cry.

By this point, I’m not sure who is crying.  The baby.  Or me.

When only the ‘C’ word will do.

Since having a newborn in the house again, my Tourette’s has reached new levels.  It is particularly bad at 3.00 AM in the morning.  When I am having to feed.  And Daddy Pig is snoring soundly next to me.  It never feels fair that I have to do this and he doesn’t.

On a good night, I’ll leave him be.  On a bad night, I might fling all the lights on and ask him to change a nappy whilst uttering the C word, threatening to give up breastfeeding and slamming a door.  I’ve lost a lot of things but I haven’t lost my ability to multi-task.

The door slamming is not just for effect.  But also because Daddy Pig has usually gone back to sleep before he’s changed the nappy.

And there goes my Tourette’s again.

Dreaming his way through the dream feed.

So we have introduced a bottle at the 10.30 PM dream feed.  Whilst this involves me hooking myself up to machinery like a dairy cow, it does at least mean I can go to bed earlier and Daddy Pig can take some of the responsibility.

Well, that was the intention anyway.

Unfortunately, Daddy Pig’s narcolepsy got the better of him on only the second time he did it.  I left him standing up in the kitchen at 10.15 PM.  But somewhere between 10.15 PM and 10.30 PM he fell asleep.  We’re not sure how.  He was STANDING UP.  Perhaps he’s also developed cow tendencies, in sympathy.  We’re hoping CCTV will shed some light on what really happened.  Or the Crimewatch reconstruction.

We have also taken steps to ensure this doesn’t happen again and renamed it the ‘awake feed.’

So Daddy Pig doesn’t get confused.

‘Sleep is for the weak.’

Google this and you’ll find that no one really knows what it means.

This is because it is a stupid expression.  Presumably originated by someone who was sleep deprived and delirious and simply did not know what he was saying.

Because sleep is amazing.  Amazing.  And I realise just how much I love it.

Every time a newborn comes into our house.

If these days are behind you and nightfeeds are a distant memory, I hope you’re rejoicing right now.  If you’re in the thick of them or about to start them, I’ve probably depressed you even further.  Sorry.  Let’s cheer one another up at Surviving Life and Motherhood or find each other on Twitter at 3.00 AM #nightfeed 

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