I fed little G around 11:45 last night. He was pretty fussy, we were pretty tired, and the only thing that would quiet him was sleeping in my arms. I know that many preach about the dangers of “co-sleeping”, but I am notorious for staying in exactly one position for the entire night– unless I’m pregnant and struggling to breath normally. So, if I go in the middle of the bed (poor Jesse) and hold G just so, in the crook of my arm, he loves it and falls right to sleep, nearly every time. I think he just gets a little lonely 🙁 And I can think of worse ways than pleasant cuddling to quiet a fussy baby.
I’ve stopped “setting an alarm” for feedings, because G lets me know when he’s hungry. I can hear him grunting (always manly) a few minutes before he starts crying. During the night, it’s been about every 3 hours– a LONG TIME for little G, if you knew the voracious appetite this kid has. Every time the devotional about gluttony comes up on Ancient Faith Radio during the day, I turn it up a little and say, “See Gregory? Gluttony is when the belly cries out for food, even when it’s already full! You have much to learn if you’re going to live up to your patron saint.”
Anyways, I fed him at 11:45. I woke up with a start around 3:30. G was still snoring peacefully next to me. I said a quick prayer of thanks and fell back asleep.
Around 4:30, I woke up feeling UNCOMFORTABLE. Every nursing mom out there knows exactly what I’m talking about. It feels like someone just took a baseball bat to your chest.
And G STILL WASN’T awake!
Shoot!, I thought. I’m going back to sleep! Sore boobs or not, I haven’t gotten this much sleep in months!
And that’s when I realized that I was completely soaked.
Man, G sure is sweaty!
I felt his head…nope, dry.
Wow, he must’ve spit up all over me!
I felt his clothes….dry.
And then I realized, that although both G and I were ready to sleep through the night, MY BOOBS WERE DEFINITELY NOT.
Yup. I was soaked in milk. I was really upset, because now I had to wake G up (so counter-intutitve!! My whole head was screaming, WHAT ARE YOU DOING???), feed him until he was so full that he literally chipmunked some in his cheeks and spat up before even swallowing, simply because he doesn’t know when to stop (again, my little Glutton Baby). Once G was done, I was still able to pump a WHOLE SECOND FEEDING’s worth. Jesse was gracious enough to change G’s diaper and put a towel on my side of the bed while this was going on, because it would’ve been at least an hour before going back to bed if I’d had to do it all on my own.
I never even considered this factor. Just when G and I are both ready to sleep longer periods of time, my body decided to hijack the whole, wonderful situation. When will it end???
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Oh Kelly….this made me laugh, although I am very sorry for your sleeping mishap.:P
What this story doesn’t include is the “house is on fire” like sense of despair that Kelly was in when she realized her soggy state. I awoke from sweet, sweet slumber from the tone in her voice — a tone that was as soaked in panic and despondency as her sheets were in boob juice. I shot up with start –eyes still closed — only to find out that nothing was on fire, underwater, or blown off by a tornado.
Considering that; grabbing a towel and burping a baby seemed like an easy thing to wake up to.
Be glad it wasn’t in the middle of a transatlatic flight 😉