No Sleep With an Infant
By Adam Katz-Stone
Oh yeah, we were pretty tired for a couple of months there, right after Zak was born.
Jewish tradition tells us that each night, when a person falls asleep, his or her soul ascends into the world-to-come and is judged by the http://www.jewishfamily.com/ Creator. Personally I don't think so, and even it were true I can just imagine the meaningful conversations between my neshamah - my soul - and its Maker during those first few months after our son arrived.
"What have you done with your time on earth?" the Creator demands.
"Mmmph?" my soul replies. "Sorry, musta dozed off there for a minute..."
"Have you performed my Commandments?" the Almighty inquires.
"Whazzat?" My soul rolls over and pulls up the blanket. "Just five more minutes, your Honor, please..."
We had a system, those first few months. When the FEED-ME-NOW music started, I would spring sprightly from my slumber and with good cheer would I strut to the nursery, probably whistling an upbeat ditty, something like:
"Grr-mmm-what-kinda-monster-child-never-gonna-sleep-mother's-fault- can't-believe-three-o'clock-and-OW!"
That noise at the end is where I jam my little toe into the corner of the dresser on account of I'm staggering around with my eyes shut, trying desperately to finish a dream cycle just this one time, while also heading in the general direction of the baby's room.
Change the diaper in the dark ("Guess THAT outfit's going in the laundry..."), then the hand-off. Mom's ready to nurse the wee lad, and I drop gracefully into a coma before he's even latched on.
They say that one of the leaders of the Satmar sect of chassidic Judaism was so pious, he would take an hour and a quarter to recite the prayer before sleep, then sleep for only an hour.
Having a new baby is sort of like that: bath, diaper, PJs, diaper, song, diaper, then it's down to sleep at last -- and seven minutes later he's up again (four minutes if you are nursing). Repeat 437 times per night.
Still, there are several excellent strategies for surviving the lack of sleep that comes with having a new baby in the house.
1) Don't have a baby.
2) Move into another house.
3) Sleep when the baby sleeps.
This last one is a big lie, by the way. Sure your newborn will take bunches of shorter and longer naps throughout the day. And yes, you can probably doze off right in synch with the little angel.
Of course, you also will have to fight your way out from under 473 pounds of unwashed towels and PJs when you wake up. And yes, your personal hygiene will deteriorate to the point where neighbors down the block will be calling in city sanitation inspectors to investigate the peculiar green haze hovering over your home. And yes, the dishes in your sink will finally meld together, evolve into a sentient life form and limp away in search of someplace nicer to reside. Like, say, the sewer.
Bottom line: baby's nap time is your key to domestic survival. Waste it on something as trivial as sleep? Never! You pulled all-nighters in school, right? So just think of this as another all-nighter, except there's no pizza, no one here cares what Plato said about perfect forms, and also by the way it lasts FOREVER.
OK, it actually only feels like forever. In our case the sleep-deprivation ordeal ended when my wife's left arm went numb.
She hauled the unfeeling appendage into the doctor's office and their conversation went something like this:
"So your left arm is numb," the doctor says.
"Mmmph?" my wife replies. " Musta dozed off thereŠ"
"I've put my chair on your toe, and now I'm poking you in the eye. Feel anything?"
"Whazzat?" My wife rolls over on the examining table and pulls the hygienic liner-paper over her head. "Just five more minutesŠ"
The doc said it was time to get the baby to sleep through the night. He was seven months old at the time -- Zak, not the doctor - and we figured he was ready. We let him cry himself to sleep two nights in a row and it sucked eggs but it worked. He's slept through the night ever since.
And the real kicker? As soon as Zak got down to just one wake-up a night, we figured that was perfect. We had gotten so used to the routine that, right around midnight, we started to miss the little tyke, even though we were soundly snoozing. We were actually glad to hear him calling for us an hour or two later, if you can believe it. And now that he sleeps through the night, it kinda sucks putting him to bed, knowing we won't be snuggling him again until morning,
Yeah, we love the little guy, and all those late-night get-togethers are already half forgotten.
Guess I'm a dad now.
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