When setting up the nursery, I must admit one of my favorite parts has been arranging that little side table beside the chair I sit in to feed the baby. I usually put a few books, my lanolin cream, burpcloths, the mylicon, and anything else I might need during nighttime feedings, arranged in a basket, so it feels like a little retreat. Anything to make those weary early morning feedings more pleasant.
In addition to these things, I always had a little lamp on that table. News flash: it’s dark in the middle of the night, and if you’re going to be able to read, unless you have super batlike powers, you’d better have a little light source. Not too bright — you don’t want the baby to think it’s daytime — but just a little glow so you can see the page.
Well, I don’t have a lamp this time. I was lucky to get a chair in the room in time, because my trusty rocking chair had been soundly destroyed by the younger set’s attempts of rocking to the moon while standing up…but that’s another story. The point is, I needed somewhere to sit; that was the more urgent need.
I didn’t push on the lamp issue, because all the lamps in the house were in use and I finally had to admit that while the thought of reading while nursing a baby in the middle of the night is a poetic one…the soft glow, the warmth, the good use of time…I don’t retain a darn thing of anything I read after, say, midnight.
So I’m sitting in the dark, with only the nightlight to keep me company. Here’s the dangerous thing about that: I could easily
- (a) fall asleep and drop the baby;
- (b) fall asleep and sit there all night and turn a half hour feeding into a several-hour affair; or
- (c) stay awake and think about how miserably exhausted I am and how I’d much rather be in my bed.
This week I had an inspiration. Why not use my iPod?! I could listen to all those podcasts I’ve been missing while I’ve been missing my morning workouts. GENIUS!
So there I was, two nights ago, listening to Lynne Rosetta Casper and Nigella Lawson discuss different ways to cook with stone fruits. At 3 a.m.
And I had to laugh at myself, because…who does that?!
The good news is, I didn’t have any dreams about Insane Plum Man coming to kill me or anything. So I guess the pregnancy crazy-dream hormones are leveling off.