This morning was an especially trying time for me. For the first time in 4 months I broke down in tears and was on my knees waving the white flag. Now, I have broken down before but it was either over my PPD or fights with the hubby. This time, truly it was because I couldn’t take the crying, fussing and refusal to go back to sleep. The dreaded 4 month regression hit last week and it’s been really difficult for both me and baby Everly ever since. I know developmentally she is going through so much so this isn’t a pleasant time for her either. She’s not trying to purposely give me a hard time but man, it’s been a really hard time. I’ve been getting 3 or 4 hours of broken sleep a night. When we get up in the morning I take care of her and my chores all day until her bed routine that starts at 6pm, then I get about 4-5 hours to either eat, catch up on housework, emails, texts, take a short nap, order things we need, or just sit in silence.

So, back to my morning. She started fussing at 4am and nothing I did would soothe her. I tried to take her into her crib (we co-sleep half the night) and she was still fussing. Diaper changed, bottle fed, burped, took off layers of clothes, nope still wants to cry. A couple hours later I tried letting her watch some cartoons in hope that I could get her to just relax but after 10 minutes she was screaming and crying. Put her down in her crib again and she screamed even louder. I scooped her up, patience wavering, and made her another bottle. I’m so exhausted as I stood in the dark of my kitchen waiting for her bottle to heat up. It is extremely hard to stay positive when you are not getting any sleep an minimal help. Thoughts creep into your mind about how you haven’t lost this baby weight and might never, about how you’ve let yourself go, how you might not be cut out for this and are a bad mom because obviously your baby isn’t happy. You think about your husband leaving you for someone prettier, younger and skinnier because right now you are the exact opposite of those things along with a huge side of crabbiness. The bottle warmer bell goes off and I’m snapped back into my present moment. As I grab for the bottle she proceeds to spit up all over me and so now I have to juggle her carefully and the bottle as well while her vomit trickles down my back. I set her down and she starts screaming again. I take off my shirt, roll it up and toss it to the side. I try to give her the bottle but she refuses angrily and that’s the moment where I just wanted to give up and falter. Tears and tension built up behind the walls of my eyes just started flowing out. I had tried my best to stay strong for so long and in this very moment I just felt like I couldn’t anymore. This IS so much harder than I bargained for or could ever imagine. I give up baby, please tell me what you want! I’ll do anything! As I start sobbing she calms down and finally takes her bottle. She looks at me as her eyes start to grow heavy from her eventful morning. I look at her and it’s as if the tables were turned for a brief second and she was the one wishing I would stop crying.