[side note: So many times after nursing her in the night and putting her in the swing/bassinet, I would wake up frantically. My mind thought I fell asleep with her on my chest and when I awoke and she wasn't there I would freak out. I can't tell you how many times that happened.]
At the time, I wanted nothing more than to be able to sleep. To get at least 3 hours of consistent sleep. But for weeks I didn't. I remember many nights she would cry inconsolably. Marshall and I would take turns trying to do whatever we could. I remember sobbing for hours during the early morning because nothing worked. Begging Hartley to stop crying. Questioning myself as a mother.
But I so dearly miss those nights of holding and comforting my baby. She's not one to rock to sleep anymore. She's an independent sleeper now.
Why do we always look forward to the day that baby sleeps through the night, starts solids, becomes potty trained, etc.?
There are so many times I find myself looking forward to when Hartley can feed herself. I nurse because it's best for her. It's not always convenient. It hasn't been easy. But it's worth it. And I know when the time comes for her to be weaned, I'm going to regret all the anticipation. I won't have the special time with her anymore, even though we have that time now 5-6 times a day.
It's a part of life. Growing up.
Probably weren't what you were expecting, but it's been on my heart.
Now that I've upset myself, I'm going to sneak in Hartley's room and watch her sleep. It's what I look forward to at the end of the day.
