{"id":2791,"date":"2012-01-10T19:34:12","date_gmt":"2012-01-11T02:34:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/?p=2791"},"modified":"2025-05-23T17:31:49","modified_gmt":"2025-05-23T22:31:49","slug":"wake-up-little-hazy-wake-up-tuesday-january-10th","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wake-up-little-hazy-wake-up-tuesday-january-10th\/","title":{"rendered":"Wake Up Little Hazy, Wake Up!  Tuesday January 10th"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/01\/IMG_0927.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-medium wp-image-2794\" title=\"IMG_0927\" src=\"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/01\/IMG_0927-224x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"224\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/01\/IMG_0927-224x300.jpg 224w, http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/01\/IMG_0927-764x1024.jpg 764w, http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/01\/IMG_0927.jpg 1936w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 224px) 85vw, 224px\" \/><\/a>Hazel woke up Saturday night. Instead of her usual ten minutes of wakeful but silent contemplation, she woke up with a startle, as if waking to the world for the first time. \u00a0And she started to wimper. Then she started to hiccup a little and cry softly. Then her face got red, her chin started to quiver, and she wailed.<\/p>\n<p>Nothing to worry about though, because Tom and I had a plan for this very situation. \u00a0Before Hazel was born we both read Secrets of the Baby Whisperer by Tracy Hogg and decided this would be our argument settler. \u00a0Whenever things got out of control, we would agree to follow the advice of this one book. \u00a0No internet hysteria could usurp the calming influence of The Baby Whisperer. \u00a0This was the theory we used to raise our dog with great success.<\/p>\n<p>When Hazel first started crying on Saturday night, I said to Tom confidently: &#8220;Don&#8217;t worry, I know her cries SO WELL. \u00a0She&#8217;s just hungry.&#8221; \u00a0So I nursed her for 30 minutes and when she popped off I put her back in my lap. \u00a0She sat there, stared contentedly for 10 minutes, then her face started to get red again. \u00a0&#8220;Oh, hmm, she must still be hungry&#8221; I said, still fueled the hubris of naivet\u00e9. \u00a0I put Hazel back on my breast for another 30 minutes. \u00a015 minutes later, she was crying again. \u00a0We changed her. \u00a0We walked around. \u00a0We sang to her. \u00a0We lowered the lights in case she was over stimulated. \u00a0She cried and cried and cried until we could see a little vein over her eye. \u00a0An hour passed. \u00a0&#8220;I guess she must be hungry.&#8221; I said again, less sure of myself now.<\/p>\n<p>This went on for a few more hours. \u00a0I convinced Tom that she must be sick, since she now had developed loud and obviously painful gas. \u00a0Her tummy burbled and produced man-sized boosters that made us laugh until she cried. \u00a0My hands got red from wringing them and my nipples spewed milk every time she started crying. \u00a0The constant feedings had increased my milk supply to the level of mediaeval wet nurse. I ignored the burning pain I felt when my breasts filled back up after a feeding, and the blisters that distorted the tips of my nipples.<\/p>\n<p>Around 1 in the morning she tired herself out, and slept for a heavenly 4 hours. \u00a0The morning brought the calm baby we had grown used to and we were lulled into thinking that the night before was just a fluke. \u00a0We got out our book to review the Baby Whisperer&#8217;s stance on feeding and crying. \u00a0I pretended to believe that Hazel&#8217;s crying and rooting could be caused by factors other than starvation or a fear that her parents were torturing her. \u00a0Tom and I had a renewed commitment to stop and listen to our baby, instead of blindly reacting to her crying. \u00a0It wasn&#8217;t until we were sitting down to dinner that the crying jags started again. \u00a0&#8220;It must be a growth spurt?&#8221; I said, bringing her to nurse again. \u00a0Tom watched my wince every time she latched on until he couldn&#8217;t stand it any longer.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Honey?&#8221; he said, clearing his throat politely. \u00a0&#8220;Remember how we were reading in our book that Hazel isn&#8217;t hungry every time she cries? \u00a0That she only knows how to do a few things and one of them is rooting, but it doesn&#8217;t mean that she&#8217;s necessarily hungry?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Oh. \u00a0Yea.&#8221; I said sheepishly.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;And remember how we&#8217;re going to try and get her on a three hour feeding schedule? \u00a0And we just have to figure out ways to sooth her between feedings? \u00a0Especially because her little digestive system can&#8217;t handle eating constantly and that&#8217;s probably what&#8217;s giving her gas?&#8221; he went on gently.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Yea, oh yea&#8221; I said. \u00a0&#8220;Ok I&#8217;ll try and be strong when she cries.&#8221; \u00a0We smiled at each other.<\/p>\n<p>A few minutes later Hazel started whimpering again. \u00a0Then she started sobbing, breathlessly crying and rooting against Tom&#8217;s shoulder.<\/p>\n<p>I tried to smile serenely. \u00a0I tried to convince myself that she was ok, that all babies cry. \u00a0I tried to imagine that she wasn&#8217;t crying &#8220;Mommy! \u00a0help me! \u00a0Mommy! \u00a0Please, please help me!&#8221; \u00a0Tom smiled back at me with genuine confidence. \u00a0&#8220;It&#8217;s ok,&#8221; he said &#8220;she&#8217;s ok, she&#8217;s just crying a little.&#8221; \u00a0I nodded back at him. \u00a0I waited a long three minutes.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Alright that&#8217;s enough,&#8221; I said &#8220;Give me my baby, she&#8217;s starving!&#8221; \u00a0I was only half kidding, and spirited her away to a couch, where I could safely nurse her away from Tom&#8217;s completely sympathetic and non-judgemental eyes.<\/p>\n<p>The next day we went to the pediatrician for Hazel&#8217;s one month appointment. \u00a0The doctor assured us that Hazel was not sick and was perfectly capable of waiting three hours to eat. \u00a0In fact, as the Baby Whisperer wrote and Tom tried to remind me, it was better for her little digestive system to have a full meal instead of snacking all day. \u00a0I, on the other hand, was suffering from mastitis, which explained my excruciating pain and blisters. \u00a0So I was sent home with a prescription for antibiotics and a resolve to do what&#8217;s right for my baby, even if it meant letting her cry a little.<\/p>\n<p>It&#8217;s been two days now, and Hazel and I both feel much better. \u00a0I&#8217;ve stopped imagining that her cries mean &#8220;Why have you forsaken me mother?!&#8221; and am finding more creative ways to sooth her between meals. \u00a0We&#8217;re back to 2.5- 3 hours between feedings during the day, and sleeping 4 hours at a time at night. \u00a0I feel much less bovine and had to thank Tom 100 times for his patience with my near-hysteria. \u00a0Ramona watched the whole scene passively, trying not to roll her eyes and remind us that she whines for food all the time and we happily ignore her.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Hazel woke up Saturday night. Instead of her usual ten minutes of wakeful but silent contemplation, she woke up with a startle, as if waking to the world for the first time. \u00a0And she started to wimper. Then she started to hiccup a little and cry softly. Then her face got red, her chin started &hellip; <a href=\"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wake-up-little-hazy-wake-up-tuesday-january-10th\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading<span class=\"screen-reader-text\"> &#8220;Wake Up Little Hazy, Wake Up!  Tuesday January 10th&#8221;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2791","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2791","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2791"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2791\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3321,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2791\/revisions\/3321"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2791"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2791"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2791"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}