That’s my baby. Sleeping. In his crib.
We started sleep training on May 2 (it was a Friday, for those of you reading this far in the future). We opted for a Friday because if it was really rough, at least we wouldn’t be going to work like zombies the next day.
This last week has been the biggest emotional rollercoaster of my life. Ever. No lie. No exaggeration.
We followed the Sleepeasy program, recommended to me by a coworker. After unsuccessfully trying to get Josh on board with a gentle, “no-cry” method, this seemed to be the most gentle crying method. Basically, you do check-ins on your baby so he knows he’s not alone. Except — you don’t do check-ins if your baby has 30 second or longer spurts of not crying because then you might just be winding them up.
This is a mindfuck. When do I know that my baby needs my support or I should just leave him alone to figure it out on his own? It feels cruel to just let him figure it out. Thomas’ issue, too, wasn’t that he couldn’t put himself to sleep or soothe himself. He can do all that. He just wants to be cuddled while he does.
Regardless, the worst of it is over now. T’s barely crying at all, and it seems to be more about manipulation (“Hold me more, Momma!”) than about actually being upset.
I even did the elliptical for 15 minutes the other night. I only stopped because it needs some WD-40 and I think the noise was disturbing Thomas. Yesterday I cleaned for 15 minutes. Josh and I eat dinner together, talking about our days.
There are a lot of really pleasant things about having a baby that’s thisclose to being sleep trained. But I miss all the cuddles.