6 to 8 hour stretches of uninterrupted, blissful sleep become a distant memory as late night and early morning feedings and diaper changes take their toll. The last time I remember being this exhausted was when Matthew was a newborn.
Elizabeth is typically up at least two or three times in the middle of the night, roughly every two hours. I can usually set my clock to it. I've been using the alarm on my iPhone to anticipate her waking up. I figure that if I can be awake before she wakes up crying, I would be less disoriented and more prepared to take care of her.
Some nights, Bill and I tag team feedings so I can try to catch up on sleep. Even when we tag team it, I still set my iPhone alarm to wake me a few minutes before she wakes up so I can pump milk while Bill gives her previously expressed breast milk. Our strategy generally works well, except when Elizabeth is up every hour or less - like last night. And that's when this dynamic duo becomes the delirious and disoriented duo. Apparently whatever I say is incomprehensible and incoherent and Bill starts to hear Elizabeth's cries in his head - whether she's awake or not - and we can't make sense of each other or anything - like last night.
At 1:57am, I was half asleep, half listening for Elizabeth. My iPhone alarm had gone off a few minutes earlier. Soon enough, Elizabeth woke up and her cries were loud and clear through the baby monitor. I dragged myself out of bed and into her room to feed her and pump.
At 3:04am, I had just gotten done pumping and was storing the milk in the fridge when I heard Elizabeth crying. I headed back to her room. Bill, bleary-eyed, was already in there getting her out of her crib. We were surprised to see each other.
Me: Oh, you're here.
Bleary-eyed Bill: You're quick!
Me: Uh, I haven't gone back to bed yet. I just got done pumping.
Bleary-eyed Bill: Oh...I thought you hopped out of bed right after I did. You go back to bed. I got this. I'll just rock her back to sleep.
Bill settled into the rocker-recliner with Elizabeth. I went back to bed and set my iPhone alarm for the next anticipated feeding time.
At 4:37am, Bill woke me up. I had not heard my iPhone alarm yet.
Bill: She's crying.
Delirious Me: Huh? What? Where? No, she's not crying. Look! See? (I showed Bill my iPhone).
Very confused, Bill turned up the volume on the baby monitor. I heard her crying. Then I saw the red lights on the monitor - the visual indicator that Elizabeth was indeed crying. Then I looked at my iPhone, still disoriented and delirious, but suddenly realizing that my iPhone was NOT the baby monitor. OH!