Boo has a schedule. He wakes up around 1 a.m. and 4 a.m. every night. Give or take half an hour. Every night. I’ve read that babies will do this for attention more than for hunger, at this stage. So I’ve tried to let him cry it out. But I think he is genuinely hungry, because it’s a different cry and squirm. He squirms and writhes and twists and cries in a semi-sleep state, like he’s so uncomfortable. When I finally cave and give him the bottle, he latches right onto it, sucks it down, and settles back to sleep.
He usually falls asleep for the night around 8 p.m. Tonight he woke up around 9 because we were out and about and we disrupted him. So I decided to seize the moment and try feeding him some solid food, to fill his tummy and see if it would keep him from waking up hungry at 1 a.m. He ate all the food, which actually surprised me. I sort of expected him to purse his lips and shake his head, which he has recently learned to do when he doesn’t want to have any more. Off to bed, but he went into his writhing contorting squirm and wouldn’t settle into sleep. So I gave him the remains of a bottle, thinking he couldn’t possibly want it for anything but comfort. He drained it and wanted more. He had a couple more ounces and then settled down to sleep. It was 11 p.m. Great, I can sleep one hour before I have to get back to the milking station.
I overslept and was wakened at 1 a.m. by the sound of my baby crying. There he was, squirming, writhing, crying. I gave him the pacifier. No luck. So I snuggled him into my lap and fed him a bottle, which he proceeded to drain. He seemed genuinely hungry. Again. Already. He finished feeding and went back to sleep. When I put him down on his mattress, I realized that I was (and still am) soaking wet, as I’m way overdue at the milking station. It’s not a pleasant sensation, and my mood is sour. I stumble downstairs to gather up my milking supplies and fumble around in the dark, getting myself locked and loaded. It’s 1:38 a.m. I am so hoping that he doesn’t wake up hungry at 4. All that extra food at 9 didn’t seem to make a difference at all. So much for that bright idea.
