2 am

This is my beautiful, sleeping machine.

She has been a champion sleeper since the day she was born. (Thanks, Chris.) She started sleeping through the night at 6 weeks old. She takes 4 naps a day. Often, I just lay her in bed and she falls asleep without crying. But she is still a baby and has off nights--won't fall asleep, wakes up every few hours, up before the sun. It only happens once in a blue moon.

Last night was one of those nights.

It started with bath time, I think. Or the squash she had earlier. Or the skipped evening nap. Who knows. This is where the mind games start for me, though. Trying to figure out where we went wrong.

Everything was going great. She ate her bedtime meal, fell asleep, and I gently placed her in her crib. Party time! I head back to my room to show Chris this ridiculous shirt I found in my closet. We laugh and discuss whether I should keep it or not, when WAAHHH. Uh oh. Baby is awake. No biggie, this happens. I pick her up and rock her back to sleep in less than 5 minutes. As I gently lay her back in bed, she startles again and this time, she looks up at me with her big, brown eyes looking so sad. I still didn't think much of it and decided to let Chris rock her to sleep this time. It usually takes about 5 minutes and will give me a chance to finish getting ready for bed.

I was wrong.

15 minutes later, she is screaming while Chris frantically tries to calm her. Since Chris has work in the morning, I offer to take her and let him sleep. Caroline and I settle into our nighttime rocking chair routine of singing UT's alma mater and patting her bum. But it isn't working. I'm a cool, collected mom so I don't panic. We try different positions, different songs, different blankets. It isn't working. 30 minutes goes by and she is still screaming. I check her diaper, take her temperature, try feeding her again. I'm now boarding the train to Crazy Town.

So I start praying. "Please, Jesus. Let her sleep." Over and over. There's something about a baby's cry in the middle of the night when you're exhausted and your back hurts because you have to sit at a funny angle in the rocking chair so your little short legs can reach the ground that sends you right over the border into Crazy Town.

I seriously start contemplating calling the pediatrician to ask the following questions:
"Is my baby dry drowning?"
"Can squash send your baby into anaphylactic shock with no symptoms?"
"My baby has burped really big a few times and has a booger. Should we go to the emergency room?"

Hello, Crazy Town! I'm your new mayor.

I was very fortunate that I did not experience postpartum depression after Caroline's birth. However, if postpartum anxiety is a thing, I definitely had it. It only lasted a few weeks, but it was scary. I constantly thought Caroline was dying. She made a lot of funny, snoring noises after she was born, and I would sit by her cradle all night to make sure she was breathing. I later learned this was normal, but you wouldn't have been able to convince me of this in the moment. The only thing that helped me sleep at all those first few weeks was Jesus. I don't say that as a joke or to Jesus juke anyone. The ONLY way I could let Caroline out of my sight and go to sleep was to pray that Jesus would sleep in the cradle with her and breathe every breath with her. Then I had to believe that He actually did it. And He did.

It was total surrender that I cannot be responsible for this child on my own. I cannot meet any of her needs on my own. Only Jesus can keep her alive. The memories of how Jesus saved my sanity in those early days came flooding back right as the 2 am breakdown loomed.

Just being there for Caroline and letting Jesus do the rest takes a lot of pressure off.

After 4 hours of on-and-off crying, Caroline finally started to settle. I still don't know why she was upset last night, but I held her until she felt better. Those big, brown eyes eventually closed and we got a little sleep. She uncharacteristically woke again at 5:15, but after a quick meal, she easily fell back asleep. Granted- we were sleeping together in the guest bedroom at this point, but anything to make her feel better.

I'm sure this won't be the last time I'm up all night with a baby. We may do it all over tonight. 2 am is a lonely time in a dark room. But it's comforting to know I'm not alone.

And only a little crazy. Right? Other moms have visited Crazy Town at 2 am, too? Just me then? Okay.