A Sleeping Milestone

On Monday evening I was soooo tired that I couldn't take another sucking session from Helena and as she was getting ready to grab my nipple I said no to it. This is, somehow organically, the decision has been made that feeding and carrying to sleep have to go. I should have told Helena about it before I implemented the procedure (I do believe she understands what's going on around her) but she was informed about it during what turned out to be three hours of crying. Three very long hours during which I had to be firm but gentle, consistent and confident. Not an easy task when the Little one is crying and looks so sad that one wants to pick her up at once rock her to sleep and forget about everything. But I didn't give in. I was there with her all the time, on the bed, next to her when she was crying. I assured her that I am there with her and I will never leave her in need. She cried and cried, and cried. She didn't know why the teaty was suddenly gone: her beloved nipple, her consolation, her best friend, her safe place was gone. My hear was broken but I stuck to my guns. Eventually after said three hours she fell asleep and I fell on my face. Tired. 

The next day, yesterday was much easier and my spirits got up. She cried but less - maybe and hour and a half. We stared the ritual earlier: lights down, screens off, bath, food, burp and bed. She surely wanted to be carried around and wanted to be given a breast but the whole drama didn't last long and soon Helena drifted away in sleep. And so I spelt as well.

Today a miracle has happened and she fell asleep without crying. She was told that today will be the same as two other days and that she will be falling asleep by herself. The whispering bear was on, I sang Silent Night and after 45 minutes Helena was out. Yay!!! She woke up for a moment crying very loud but was able to find her safe place soon after and went back to sleep. 

I am so happy with this. I still wake up during the night twice but already I can see that the quality of her sleep and mine has improved. It's so important for both of us to be well rested even if it means that each day is anchored in the same routine. 

I'm well aware that tomorrow may be different and she might not sleep at all but I will nevertheless celebrate my little parental victory. I will celebrate it here and on Facebook since I have nobody here right next to me to share these little victories with. And it's a major victory, actually.

I feel a bit sad myself, I must admit. Weaning Helena means that she is becoming more independent and she is approaching a finishing line of  her infancy. I love watching her grow and each milestone she hits gives me so much happiness but I realize that time passes quickly. Time used to fly before she was born but now it is travelling with the speed of light. 

So here we are! Another beautiful day with Helena - a day to be grateful for. I will sleep like a baby tonight!

She Blows My Mind

It blows my mind: I hold Helena in my arms, a little human girl. A little perfection: most of what she will use in her life is there already there ready to be nurtured and activated by me - by her primary care giver. She is not  just a white sheet to be written on - she is a person already with her moods, with he likes and dislikes, needs with all these little things that make her Helena. To me, she is whole already and my responsibility is to nurture this wholeness, to prompt what's good and to help her navigate the world.  She will be discovering the world with me and for a long time she will see it through my eyes.  My vision is impaired. I've been both disabled  and enabled by my own experiences: now it's the quiestion where will the accents go: on the positive and empowering or the negative and the disability will continue. That's how it happens across generations. The vision impairment is contagious: what I'm scared of - Helena most probably will internalize. What I consider safe - she will as well. She will soon pick on what I make of the world and people in it. This life that I'm nurturing is such a responsibility that it blows my mind. 

She looks at me with so much trust and belief - for Helena I'm the compass, the map and the guide. 

I know Helena is not mine - she will go away one day and it's my responsibility to equip her for this journey. I need to equip her with the tools that she will see that work ergo through my own life I  need to show her how to make use of these tools. It's a beautiful and a very challenging task. I'm honored that she is my daughter but when think of all these stages that we will go through and of my role as a mom, I'm feeling often overwhelmed. I don't want to be perfect, it's not about it. Far too well I know that I'm a flawed human being but I just would like to be good enough and make Helena comfortable and safe, and confident that the world is a good place: yes, there are challenges and we already have few of them but we can learn to work around them and still be happy.She will see me practicing it, she will believe it. She will see me only saying that- she will know that I'm selling her crap.

 But why am I writing all this? Oh yes! I just felt this wave of love today when she was falling asleep in my arms. The wave of love and awe. I'm awed with the wholeness of this little human being, I'm awed with how much she already knows, how observant she is. I'm stunned by her new skills that she develops each day, I marvel over her character. Such a little human being and there is already so much to her, she is already so complex - simple in some ways but so complex and wholesome it other ways.

Helena blows my mind.