I realized that one great thing about sharing your weak moments is realizing that everyone else has those weak moments, too. Maybe theirs aren't exactly the same, but it is nice knowing that someone can relate to you when you're feeling your craziest.
So, it all went down on Friday night/Saturday morning...whatever you want to call it. It was 3:00 a.m. Before I dive in, I need to give you a brief history, so you can gain the full context of what was going on.
For the past few weeks, Will has been waking up every night between 2 and 3 a.m. Nothing is wrong. He is not hungry, he does not need changed, he does not have a fever...nothing is apparently wrong...he just wakes up. I would walk across the house, put his pacifier in his mouth, and he was back asleep almost instantly. Sometimes I would end up doing this 2 or 3 times within a 30/45 minute period, but then he would sleep for another 2 hours or so before he wanted to eat. I know that doesn't really sound terrible. I understand that it's not difficult to walk into the other room and stick a pacifier in his mouth. What it is is annoying. Who likes their sleep to be disturbed? Definitely not me!
After several nights of this, I decided it was time to let him cry it out. I won't go into all the controversy surrounding the "cry it out" method, but I believe it is sometimes necessary. If you don't feel this way, that is fine, we can just agree to disagree.
So, back to Friday night. Will wakes up around 2 a.m. I am weak. I walk across the house and give him his pacifier. Back to bed. Around 2:30 a.m., he is up again. I am still weak. I make the trek back across the house and once again, give him his pacifier. Again...3:00 a.m. This time, I decide to be strong. I tell myself I will not get up. I will just let him cry. After about 20 minutes of crying, Theron wakes up (how do dads sleep through this stuff???). The following conversation follows:
T: Are you gonna go give him his paci?
M: I have already been up twice. I am not getting up again.
T: Do you want me to go give him his paci?
M: No. We need to just let him cry.
Silence in our bedroom. More screaming down the hall.
10 more minutes pass, and something inside of me just explodes. By this time, my blood pressure is through the roof, I'm sweating profusely, and my heart is beating out of my chest. Out of frustration, I yell, "Will, just be quiet and go to sleep!" (I know what you're thinking...what kind of terrible mother would yell at her 3 month old...that would be me). Theron tells me to calm down, at which point, I turn my yelling to him.
I start on some rant about how he doesn't understand what it's like to get up multiple times in the middle of the night because he never does it. He doesn't know what it feels like to be constantly sleep deprived because he gets a full night's sleep every night. I even throw in something about how all he does lately is work. Definitely not my best moment.
In the midst of all my yelling (and did I mention sobbing?), Will goes peacefully back to sleep. However, it is now 3:45, and Theron and I are nowhere near sleeping. I slowly calm down. My heart rate slows. I cool off. I am still sobbing. I roll over to Theron. I am so sorry...I say between sobs. We talk it out (at almost 4:00 in the morning), and finally, get back to sleep.
In the morning, when I am back in a more rational frame of mind, I have incredible feelings of guilt. I hold Will close and hug him and kiss him and tell him how much I love him over and over again. Then, I think...Why did I scream at a 3 month old? Why did I yell at my husband in the middle of the night? Why is it so difficult for me to control my anger? Then, these thoughts crossed my mind:
- I'm so thankful that my baby can cry. I'm thankful that he's healthy...just so thankful that he is alive and that he's mine. Of course he cries. Even in the middle of the night. He is 3 months old, and he doesn't know any different. Perhaps I should allow him to act like a 3 month old, even if it disrupts my sleep from time to time.
- I'm so thankful my husband has a good job. I'll admit...I hate tax season. I miss seeing him and spending time with him. But it's only for a few months, and it could be so much worse. I am thankful he works so hard and is willing to put in 65 hour weeks. I am thankful that he is able to provide for our family, so I can stay at home with our son. Maybe I should tell him how much I love and appreciate him and his hard work rather than yelling at him for not getting up in the middle of the night.
- I'm so thankful I have a loving Savior who doesn't give up on me. I have always struggled with controlling my anger, but He keeps loving me in spite of my weaknesses. I am thankful that He allows me to be broken, so I find my completeness in Him and not in myself. Believe me...nothing is more humbling than having a weak moment to slap you in the face.
I hope by sharing this someone will think...whew, I'm not the only one who deals with this stuff (instead of...wow, Meagan really is crazy!). I hope you will see that I do my very best every day, but I have my own set of struggles, my own weaknesses, and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way. If I could do it all on my own, why would I have a place for God in my life? Thank goodness...when I am weak, He is strong.