And on the twelfth day we had a meltdown
I hit an all time low today.
The lack of sleep has already made thoughts and memories jumble up into a mush of events, but at about 8am this morning I found myself changing a nappy with tears rolling down my face pleading for our baby to stop crying. The little poppers on baby grows can be infuriating at the best of times but when you’ve only had a few hours sleep all night the little fuckers can break a man.
It had all just got too much. Our baby screams like you’re pulling it’s fingernails off whenever it’s unhappy – hungry, dirty nappy or just a bit lonely, and soon forgets why she’s screaming at all and gives you full rage for the love of rage. She was recently fed, her nappy was clean and we were trying to have a cuddle.
What made it all so much worse was the fact that we haven’t even hit the end of week two yet and we have days and months of this ahead, and the real tests of life when I’m trying to work full time and wifey is on her own most of the day haven’t begun.
But never the less I found myself pounding the floor in frustration and pleading with baby to stop crying.
She eventually did of course, it was as if someone had turned a switch off. Within seconds she was red faced and giving me a lungful of stinking milk breath, and the next she was silent.
When wifey came down we had a bit of a chat about things. Baby had been a terror with her the first half of the night and we both agreed that forgoing sex for the rest of our lives to ensure we didn’t create another one of these was worth the sacrifice. We both wept a little at the frustrations, and how there was still so much more to come.
But we don’t know a way round it. Our baby is still days old and still has so much ahead of her, and somehow we’ve got to grin and bare it. Somehow.
Fuck knows how.