Looking at the big picture, nothing could have prepared me for the overall experience of having Alice. On a smaller scale, I planned and prepared as best I could to make Alice’s early months as smooth and as stress free as possible, just like every parent does in their own way. Along the way I picked up a few “baby hacks” that I wish I had known from the beginning.
These worked for Alice and for me, and my lifestyle and my budget, and… well, I could go on and on. I’m not at all saying that I think this is the be all and end all of child-raising, I’m saying this is what I did that worked for me and thank goodness it did! These little tricks made my transition to parenthood manageable. My main reason for writing them here is so I can look back in the future, and remind myself of these little tricks for baby number two, especially in those first six, gruelling weeks when everything is cry-worthy and I remember nothing of what I’ve learnt.
This is also a public ‘thank you very much’ to those people who steered me in the right direction; family, midwife, Plunket, friends; the helpful hints from these people is what I’m celebrating - and journaling - with this blog.
The baby wrap
Babies are born with too many survival reflexes to count. Reflexes that help them get fed and cleaned and kept safe. One of these reflexes, the Moro or startle reflex, is a baby’s innate defense mechanism against danger.
And it’s a pain in the backside when babies are sleeping.
My reason for wrapping was to stop Alice’s startle reflex waking her up when there was a loud noise (or, indeed, if Alice was holding on to wind and decided to let it go during a nap…).
I was shown this wrapping technique when Alice was a week old and I still use it now, nearly seven months on. I use a long piece of fabric (about 1.5 metres long, 90cm wide), I found cotton fabric with a little elastane works best. I fold the top down about ten centre metres, about the length of Alice’s forearm. I lie her a third of the way along, tuck her arm up to the elbow under the fold on the shorter side and wrap the fabric around her. I repeat for the other, longer side, wrapping so her hands are below her chin. The tighter the better! She can suck her hands, sleep with her arms up (which means she’s not fighting to get out of the wrap), and she won’t wake herself up with her wriggling. Better still, her legs are fairly free, which is great for hip health.
I think, if it weren’t for this wrap, I’d be a cot case.
I asked my mum to make some satin runners with cotton backing to go in to the cot; it meant Alice rubbed hardly any hair off the back of her head and, although this wasn’t the plan, I now have a familiar piece of bedding that I can take with me when she sleeps in different beds. Satin pillowcases work well, too.
A freezer full of goodies
having cooked meals in the freezer has been an absolute godsend. I found that I didn’t use them in the first few weeks because our routine was as messy as Alice’s; both my partner and I just ate what we could, when we could. But now it’s great having a back up. I find they get used not so much on days that are busy – when I’m so worked up about going out with a baby that I’ve planned for everything three times over. The frozen dinners are eaten on days when Alice and I spend all day playing in our jammies and time gets away on us… oh well!
The 45 minute miracle
Once we had all settled in to some sort of normalcy, I could set a clock by Alice. Up until Alice was about five months old everything ran on a forty-five minute cycle. She would wake, play, feed, and forty-five minutes later, give or take no more than a few minutes, someone flicked a switch and Alice was ready for bed. Heaven help me if her routine took longer than three quarters of an hour.
The cycle went on; she would be asleep for 45 minutes and wake (the crucial transition between REM and deep sleep) but so long as no one was in the room she would go back to sleep, waking after another forty-five minutes or an hour and a half. I’ve heard of other babies that need resettling after forty-five minutes, I’ve heard of babies that only sleep forty-five minutes at a time full stop. And of course, I’ve heard of babies where this rule doesn’t apply at all.
As time went on, the forty-five minutes doubled. Her wake time became 1 ½ hours, down to the minute. Now, at nearly seven months, her wake time is two hours and fifteen minutes; forty-five minutes times three.
The coincidences continue – since eleven weeks old Alice has slept for nine hours every night unless something was wrong. This is forty-five minutes twelve times over, with never more than a few minutes difference.
The forty-five minute cycle is backed up by study and research and cognitive theory, and by experiences in our own lives. We get up and have breakfast. Three hours later we need a stretch, or some morning tea. Then lunch about an hour and a half later. Maybe it takes forty-five minutes to get over that early afternoon slump? I’ve studied my day, and I too run on a multiple of the forty-five minute cycle.
When the Karatane nurse told me about the forty-five minute miracle, I felt like she had imparted The Divine Truth – sacred knowledge that answered all the world’s problems. Suddenly I had science to explain why it seemed like I had a grizzly baby all the time. I didn’t, she was just tired. I am just blessed I’ve got a great sleeper.
A moment in time
The last thing I want to remember is this statement; “this is just a moment in time”. I can be tired now because it won’t be forever. I’ve had sleepless nights before, I can sleep tomorrow night. Alice is grumpy now but she’ll burp soon and we’ll all be fine. ‘This is just a moment in time’ has got me through some tough days, and there are many more tough days to come. I know we’ll be ok, though, because it’s just a moment in time.
And it goes both ways. Alice won’t always smile like that when I walk in to the room. I won’t always be able to park her in the washing basket to hang the towels on the line, watching the expression of interest and joy as she and the Labrador touch noses. I won’t always be able to pretend to eat her toes or blow raspberries in her armpits. ‘This is just a moment in time’ reminds me to watch her. Be present. To not apologise for having a party every time Alice does something new or different. This is just a moment in time.
No comments:
Post a Comment