It's 1:00 A.M., and I've spent the past hour listening to my son cry, scream, fuss, and whimper in the next room. I met a good friend for dinner tonight, and she convinced me that now was a good time to try a modified version of crying it out (don't judge me...I haven't slept in over a month...something has to give). B's out of town for the weekend, and the guy who lived in the other half of our house was recently evicted, so no one is around to be bothered by some excessive crying. I figured I'd give it a shot.
It started out pretty well. We went through our bedtime routine like normal. He screamed when I put him down, but he fell asleep after about 40 minutes (between checks three and four). Then he woke up a bit before midnight. I'm getting ready to go in to do check number six. This doesn't seem to be working. And I have no idea how long to let him go before I do something more than just comforting him. He keeps getting close to settling down, then he'll start screaming again. *Sigh* This is getting frustrating.
During the first round of our scream-a-thon, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the baby's sad little cries were actually getting to me. I'm generally pretty good at being able to tune out the screaming when I need to (like when we're in the car). It just doesn't usually bother me on the deep level that other mother talk about. I find it obnoxious, but not heartrending. Tonight, though, I felt major pangs of guilt with every wail. I take that as a sign that somewhere deep down inside of me there's a little seed of something maternal. Maybe there's hope for me yet.
Update: about halfway between checks six and seven, he finally settled down, and went to sleep (I think...I'm not about to go in there and risk setting him off again if he's faking me out).
Update again: by the time I got done typing the previous sentence, he started screaming again. *Sigh* Time to come up with plan B, I guess.