Do you sleep train in your house? Would you consider letting your little snowflake cry it out?
My little sister, a freshly minted mom, was asking questions about the trauma that is sleep after baby, and I had to laugh before answering her in all seriousness “do whatever you can handle, you’re the one who’s going to suffer most.”
What I mean by that is if she goes the crying to sleep route, she’s the one, as mom, whose hormones are going to run amok at the sound of her sweet baby’s persistent banshee cries. And if she continues on the path of little rest, she’s the one who’s going to feel the most like the victim of a locomotive hit and run come 6 am.
In short, there are no victors in sleep training. There is only survival.
We’ve had one decent sleeper whose Babywise-reading fresh faced mommy was fanatical about his feeding schedule and had the ideal work-from-home job and a convenient lack of any other pressing small human-sized interruptions to back it up, a sleepless wonder of the colicky variety, and a mysteriously mellow happy napper who willingly does 12 hour stretches when the sun does the same, and has since very early on. What we’ve done differently with each of them: pretty much nothing.
In other words, sleep is a crapshoot, and while I’m always willing to try anything come the 4th trimester, it always seems to shake out during year one (or shortly thereafter. Ahem, John Paul.) at which point life becomes technicolor once again, and the day doesn’t break with such violence.
Is that about how it goes in your house? Or do you have a time-honored and sacred methodology that works on all makes and models of baby? I’m prepared to be wrong, and as I creep ever closer to this latest third trimester, I must confess to feeling the first stirrings of primal fear at the thought of drunken sleepless days of parenting at a 4:1 ratio come August.
Any words of wisdom to pass along? I’m all (plugged) ears.