The Hardest Thing

The Peanut just seems to have quieted down after 30 minutes of crying. Okay, rewind.... You see, she's been very difficult at night lately. She's really too big for the Miracle Blanket and Boppy anymore, but she doesn't really like to lay on her back or side yet, either. For the past couple of days, we've been putting her on her side for naps and such, but she rarely makes it past half an hour at a time. Then there was last night. I'm still sick. I'm better than I was a few days ago, but I'm still feelin' the effects of whatever nasty bug blew through. Last night, we decided: no more Miracle Blanket, no more Boppy, she's going into her Halo sleep sack and that's that (oooh, big, tough parents!!!). I rocked her 'till she was good and asleep and put her down. She lasted about 2 hours. I went in and soothed her back down and she lasted an hour and a half. After that (this is about 1 in the morning now) it's all blurry, but we were up a dozen times at least. And mostly she slept on me in the glider rocker, that much I know. That's just not good, for either of us. Though it's damned cute, and more than a little addictive. The hard truth of the matter is that we haven't really allowed her the opportunity to learn how to put herself to sleep and put herself back to sleep, so it's not her fault. It's all on us. So tonight, we went through the usual evening routine - well, the routine when I'm at home for her bedtime - Mom gave her the bath, I took her in the towel and dried her and lotioned her chubby little legs. Then I fed her while her mommy put away her clothes and grinned at Her Royal Cuteness. I think, having resolved to let her "cry it out", or use the "exctinction" method - both of which sound like torture methods - we were both a little reluctant to start the night. Start the clock, as it were. But about 8 o'clock, I put her down, patted her on the back until she was good and asleep and closed the door. Went in, cooked spaghetti, wife scooped the pooper and then took the trash out, we sat down and watched the end of Family Guy and flipped over to some old Ren and Stimpy. 8:40 PM. The crying begins. We both look at each other. Any illusions of strength we had put up for each other earlier have vanished. I feel sick to my stomach. She looks like she's about to cry. I finish my spaghetti and read in the book, wanting reinforcement that this is the right decision. The monitor's on - the sound is down, but it still has a little LED cry-meter on the front that lets us know she's still crying it out. Plus, our walls aren't thick and our house isn't big - we can hear her. And feel her. It's horrible. The minutes tick by slowly. Eventually, I join my wife here in the computer room and pull the door closed. With my loud system, it's much more difficult to hear her. And then it happens... 9:10 PM. Sensors indiciate lack of activity from child's room. The C-meter rests at zero. Could this be mission accomplished? Only time will tell, but it's 9:30 now and still no activity from within the child's den. If it's true, the Peanut must really love us, because from everything I've read, 30 minutes on the first try is a very short period of time to have to endure. I hope she knows we really love her, because we really do. I truly believe that this hurt us much more than it hurt her. And I have to believe that we'll all be better people for it in the end. If not, then there's always ritual suicide, right?