Still. After a dream month or so of sleeping 8pm to 4am or so, she suddenly started with the every two or three hours waking thing again. When you’re in that newborn whirl you get accustomed to it somehow, but having your sleep restored then taken away again… well, it’s like taking candy from a baby. You being the baby. I just felt like howling with frustration.
We went for her six-month check-up on Monday and the Dr is happy with her progress (she shamelessly flirted with him). But he did say now is the time to train her to sleep.
Cue heart-clench. I had been hoping we could just sail along as we are, me feeding her to sleep every night, until she just sort of got the idea herself.
But Dr S was rather brutal in his assessment. “You must do it now or your life will be hell!” he warned, with a scary eyebrow waggle. These Peruvian doctors have not heard of the babywearing, feed-on-demand movement, it seems.
He said we must put her down for the night sleepy but not asleep and then leave the room for five minutes exactly. Returning once to reassure her, but without touching or picking her up or kisses or anything. And then we have to leave her. For the whole night. Even if she vomits, he said. Another scary eyebrow waggle.
Say what? Leave her in her own vomit?
Any thoughts on this one, people?
Anyway, I’m not going there just yet, mainly because I’m a coward, and because this week is my first week back at work. I am actually enjoying the work part, although it’s only been one day. But I have diagnosed myself with post-traumatic stress (joking, but I do feel physically ill at the thought of any contact with my evil boss) after last year’s dramas over the pregnancy.
I wrote to evil boss yesterday because I just didn’t want to speak to him. It was a short note telling him I was off to see someone about an upcoming event, asking him if there was anything in particular he’d like me to raise, and he replied at once, chiding me for being “abrupt”. Then he actually asked me what sex the baby was. Her name.
To say I was livid is a massive understatement. This man intimidated me throughout my entire pregnancy and undermined me to the extent that I am now “in negotiations for my next post”, and now he wants to be mates?
Of course the big twist in all of this is that I am apparently seven weeks pregnant. I still can’t believe it. I am so focused on Lola I can’t imagine another person coming into being. And I have no idea, no idea at all, as to how we’ll work this, practically speaking. I am consulting an employment lawyer to see if I have a leg to stand on (I fear not as I am on contract, so even if the company should offer me something from an ethical point of view, they probably don’t legally).
I am still surprised by my treatment. This is a company that has treated me well for more than a decade. But it made my pregnancy a fear- and stress-soaked experience. It’s shocking to me still that a company like this treats pregnant women in such a way.
To end on a positive and terribly cliched note, Lola has brought a whole new perspective to all of this. I was ready to go for evil boss’s jugular yesterday, but having woken up to her and to Rufus and stopped to think about all I have in life, it just didn’t seem to matter so much anymore.