It wasn't a good night tonight. And when it was all over, I felt like a horrible parent for not figuring out what was wrong much, much sooner.
Kevin got Ryan all ready for bed tonight, gave him his bottle, and settled him down. It took some work, but then, the past few nights Ryan just hasn't wanted to sleep. He fusses, whimpering and unsettled, making unhappy noises for about ten minutes, and then usually he nods off.
Although last week we had to resort to the car once. We hate doing that -- we certainly don't want to get him used to taking a twenty minute drive in order to fall comfortably asleep.
But tonight... tonight it just wasn't happening. Got him settled, started watching Angel from the Tivo. Ryan fussed. We paused Angel, and gave him more of his bottle. He settled. Kevin laid him down. A few minutes later, he started fussing.
So fine, next step is to try to let him cry it out. So Ryan continues to cry, while we are downstairs, finishing up Angel. And with every cry my head has a knife plunging into it again and again, as my sinus headache echoes with the sound. I can't take it. It makes me ready to just curl up in a corner whimpering. Then add in a healthy dose of guilt because my son is just getting utterly hysterical over something and I don't know what it is.
Kevin goes upstairs with the bottle, but Ryan doesn't calm down. I can hear Kevin getting more and more frustrated, so I went upstairs as well. I took him, and for a moment Ryan was calm -- mommy was there. But then whatever was bothering him didn't go away. And he started screaming again.
So we figure, maybe he's too wound up. I growl about not being able to drive (I can hardly see straight the pain's so bad -- I hate these headaches) so Kevin packs him into the car and takes him out. Twenty minutes later he's back, and Ryan's asleep. He settles him into the crib.
It lasts all of a few minutes. Tops. And then the whimpering... then the shuffling of a little boy sitting up in bed, and then the all out screaming.
I go upstairs again and scoop him up. I sniff him, and then decide that even thought I smell utterly nothing, I'll change him. There was a time once when we pinched a small bit of very tender skin in the fold of a diaper -- maybe that's happened again.
I start to take off his pajama bottoms when I realize that his foot isn't properly into the footy part of the PJs. His toe is stuck, pointed up slightly, and probably godawful uncomfortable. I quickly pull the PJs off and massage his poor little red toes. As I touch them, the screaming intensifies. This, then, is most definitely the problem. And neither of us had seen it.
But to make me feel guilty, my memory scrolls backwards and I realize I *did* see it. I noticed it when I saw Kevin putting the PJs on him, and just kind of discarded it, automatically assuming it'd get fixed as Kevin smoothed out the PJs. But Kev didn't notice it had happened. And Ry didn't start crying right away.
Poor guy. I felt really really badly about it. Once I got him settled this time he went right to sleep with just some backrubbing. But I still feel really badly about it. Its so hard when they can't just say what's bothering them.Posted by Deb Atwood at October 07, 2002 11:31 PM | TrackBack