My baby has been waking up a lot in the middle of the night. Not sure if it is from teething, or if the seven month sleep regression turned into the eight month sleep regression. Either way, this mama is tired.
It was around midnight and it was the second time that night she woke up crying. So I picked her up from her crib and put her in bed with my husband and I so I can nurse her back to sleep.
Around 3:30 in the morning, I heard something hit the floor, followed by crying. I never jumped out of bed that fast in my entire life. I turned on the light and I see my eight month old daughter lying on the floor screaming. I immediately started bawling. I couldn't believe I let her roll off the bed.
My husband and I held her, rocked her, and told her everything was going to be okay. After maybe two minutes of crying, she stopped. She started smiling and giggling. It was like she forgot anything had happened. We checked her entire body to see if she had bruises, scrapes, or bumps. There was nothing. I couldn't believe it.
Soon after that, she went back to sleep. I, however, couldn't sleep. I was up researching signs of concussion and head trauma. I kept thinking if we should take her to the ER, but my husband didn't think it was necessary, plus she seemed completely untouched. Regardless, I felt like a failure.
The next day, I was on and off crying. I felt like I damaged her. The mom guilt was hanging over me like a dark rain cloud. I checked her entire body again to make sure nothing came up. Still nothing. She was perfect. Why did I have a hard time believing that nothing was wrong? I think the fact that we have carpet and had some clothes on the floor was our saving grace.
That night, during her bedtime routine, my husband and I were talking to her. I pointed to him and asked our daughter, "who is that?" And she said, "da da." When he pointed to me and asked her, "who is that?" She said, "ma ma." That was the first time she had ever distinguished the two of us as mama and dada. It was one of the most incredible moments of my life.
In that moment, I knew she was perfectly fine. I told myself to let the mom guilt go. Easier said than done though, but I need to stop beating myself up for every little thing that happens. This won't be the last time she gets hurt, even if I hate to admit that. This is all just apart of motherhood.
-Kristin, Owner/Creator of Free the Mother