4 Months – Sleep Regression

10 Dec

This time last week, I was busy writing you a rather uncharacteristically cheerful, some might say almost smug post about how wonderful life was with my two boys, and how finally, everything was falling into place.

Well, evidently, no one likes a smart arse. Before my ink was even dry (metaphorically speaking, since there ain’t no ink on an iPad, but you get my gist), BAM! A new phase came and kicked my oh so comfortable attitude right in the cahoonas.

This phase (and it had BETTER be a phase), is the 4 month sleep regression. And my GOD it is brutal.

Up until now, I had cherished my largely perfectly sleeping baby who would usually (give or take the odd blip), sleep on me, in rockers, in his cot, in the car at least 3 times each day and then for 8 hours at night with a quick 20 minute wake for a feed and then back down until 7am.

This reliable routine allowed me to minimise his reflux, enjoy morning snuggles, play with him happily when he was awake and get a reasonable nights sleep.

But all that went distinctly up the swanny last week when without warning he started waking every 10-15 minutes at night. Then just to really stick the knife in, he started refusing his naps in the day.

At first I put it down to a bad reflux flare up and vowed to up his dose of Omeprazole the next morning to restore his happy snoring.

But it didn’t work. Night 2 was again riddled with fidgeting, thrashing, moaning and waking every 10-15 minutes.

By day 3, my new calm, collected and care free earth mother persona had vanished and in stepped what I can only describe as an unhinged lunatic, pacing, ranting and googling my way through the morning.

In a moment of madness after over 90 mins of nap refusals, crying and shouting from the disobedient baby I decided that he would sleep better in our bedroom and began to desperately haul his crib up the stairs. Half way up, when I’d pulled almost every muscle in my back and could neither continue up or retreat down, I realised what a tool I was being. But alas it was too late, I had no option but to drag the offending object up to the top, before abandoning it just inside the doorway and crawling back down the stairs in a torrent of tears and swear words.

By this time, the poor baby was so hysterical from exhausted screaming, he fairly quickly passed out in the crib for a whole 15 damn minutes, before waking again and demanding my attention.

I figured that if he wouldn’t sleep, I may as well take him out to the shops to buy a heat pad for my back and some drops for my infected eye…. Did I fail to mention that the lack of sleep had given me an eye infection? Oh yes, it really is the season of giving.

After numerous wasted minutes spent circling the high street for a parking space that’s rarer than rocking horse s***, I dumped the car halfway across a resident’s drive (so sue me) and hobbled in to the chemists.

Whilst debating the various merits of soothing eye drops over their infected, refreshing or rehydrating range with a snooty pharmacist I received a phone call from my hubby asking whether I had been contacted by the school. Expecting that perhaps there might be a mix up over Oscar’s hot lunch day I delved into my voicemails to find a message from the medical assistant reporting that Oscar had a high temperature and must return home immediately.

You’ve got to be kidding me?!

So now a tired, cranky, crippled mother, not only has to cope with a tired, cranky, sleep averse baby, but an additional tired, cranky, poorly 5 year old?

I collected him on the way back from the chemist and lasted a whole 20 minutes back home before phoning my husband, wailing like a banshee and begging him to come home. Clearly he underestimated the scale of my desperation as he jokingly called me an idiot for moving the crib, before declaring himself unable to help as he was too far away. At this point, the air turned blue and I hung up before divorce papers were served and turned my attention to my parents.

Thank goodness for my awesome, nay, god like father who swooped in just 30 minutes later to look after the 5 year old, who, realising he had the afternoon off school had made a miraculous recovery and was now bouncing off the walls.

6 days later, this blasted sleep regression, accompanied by some serious teething is still causing multiple night wakings and endless day time nap refusals and constant grouchiness. I’m getting through it with Bacardi and the delusion that I’ll have my happy, predictable, sleeping baby back in time for Christmas.

One can hope.

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2 Responses to “4 Months – Sleep Regression”

  1. journeyformybaby December 10, 2014 at 6:09 pm #

    I remember the 4 months sleep regression. It was a nightmare except that we were awake. It was just awful. I thought we were never going to get through it. I could barely cope. I have no idea how my baby was able to stay awake that long!! The good news is, we did eventually pull through even though I thought we never would. I do remember having to do some CIO around that time for his sake as much as my sanity. I hope everything resolves soon for you and you get your perfect little sleeper back in no time. 🙂

    • ferreroroche123 December 10, 2014 at 8:50 pm #

      It is awful. Quite a shock after several months of stable routine. Thanks for your supportive comments.

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