I stood in the middle of the bookstore. Tiny Alexis was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and watched as I deliriously looked for answers. I was that sort of tired that comes after exhausted -- the kind that leaves you dizzy and disjointed as your brain wanders outside of your body.
I picked up a book, I'm not sure the name of it, but it promised a better night's sleep. Alexis was maybe eight months old at the time, so it had been well over a year since I had enjoyed a decent night of sleep. I was something worse than desperate for answers.
As I turned the pages, words jumped out of the book and punched me in the gut. "If your baby is six months old and still not sleeping through the night, it's your fault." That may not be what it actually said, but it's what I saw. I scoured for answers and considered the suggestions the author offered.
"Make sure you have a before bed routine."
We did. Each night was exactly the same. I would feed Alexis, read her a book or two while rocking in the chair in her room, and then put her down in her crib. Each night started just like that, but then quickly devolved to her screaming and demanding to be picked back up.
"Make sure it's dark."
Done. Black out curtains and blinds had turned Alexis' room into a beautiful sleep cave.
"Swaddle the baby."
Tried it. Alexis hated it with the fire of 10,000 suns. Still, I continued to try every few nights. It was our first time riding in the parenting rodeo and EVERYONE said swaddling was a must, so clearly it was our fault that it didn't work. I had to try again. Just in case.
"Let the baby cry it out, or try checking in and then leaving."
I spent weeks attempting to follow various theories of cry it out, but yet things never seemed to improve.
We were doing everything right. Yet, Alexis didn't sleep.
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This time around I was a little bit wiser, somewhat more seasoned, and definitely jaded. I was so jaded that just walking past those books is enough to turn me into fire-breathing dragon. SCREW YOU AND YOUR ADVICE, SEARS AND FERBER AND ALL OF YOU QUACKS.
In the five weeks since Mila came into this world and made it a better place, I have done EVERYTHING wrong when it comes to sleep. Routine? Pshaw. Swaddle? Sometimes. Dark? Hardly. Cry it out? There will be no crying because here, just lay down with me for a bit. Got some more rules? Because I will happily break them.
Mila has rewarded me by being The BEST Sleeper Ever. It may very well all come crashing to a halt tomorrow, but it won't matter because she started life sleeping through the night. Put her in her crib somewhere between 9:00 and midnight and she will summon someone for food in 5-7 hours. She will quickly down a meal and then go back to sleep for another 5 hours.
It's like magic.
And proves what I've suspected for a long time -- the so-called "sleep experts" are liars who prey on exhausted new parents by making promises of a better life in exchange for a few dollars. In reality, it's like a roll of the dice. Either you get a good sleeper or you don't. You just have to go with it.
