‘But, Oh, Those Summer Nights…’ Evanne Ní Chuilinn on Sleepless Nights in the Sun

And so we head back to Ireland, and the drawing board.

Just under three weeks ago, we set off on our first family holiday. Armed with the advice of Her.ie readers, nothing about the unpredictability of what lay ahead was going to faze me. The cot, car seat and other such paraphernalia were in place ahead of time, and I had everything bar the kitchen sink in the four bags that accompanied our humble party of two and a half. Unfortunately, none of us have slept since mid-August!

I can't put my finger on what went wrong, but it was immediate. Our little man wouldn't, or couldn't, stay asleep for more than two hours at a time, though there have been nights this past week when those intervals of respite fell to twenty minutes. He needed reassurance on the hour, every hour during our first night in Spain, and that pattern has been the only constant in his nocturnal routine since. 

I had been so diligent at home. A nighttime routine was established at 8 weeks, and it hadn't really changed except that Séimí eventually lasted until 6.30am. He loved going to bed, he would fall asleep of his own accord after a brief chat with himself, and the following morning would begin in much the same fashion. I would wake, not to the sound of panicked screams, but with the gurgle of a child happily assessing whether or not a lampshade would indeed engage him in conversation. How I miss that most perfect of wake-up calls!

Since we've been away, the little man has not only convinced himself that 4am is morning time, but also that he needs a hug or a soother, on average every 50 minutes until that dreaded hour. It was such a sudden change in his general demeanor, (he rarely cried at home), that I'm worried I won't be able to reverse the behaviour when we get back home later tonight. 

There are, however, any number of reasons for this sudden unwillingness, or inability, to rest.  He was in a small crib at home, and was put into a big boy cot when we arrived here. He is losing copious amounts of fluid in the form of gloopy dribble, which would suggest that his teeth might be causing the problem. He is now just gone 5 months old, and I have noticed him gawking longingly at my food. It has been 37 degrees here during the day, and probably only 7 below that at night, so I put the air conditioning on in the room while he slept, though not too high. These are all very valid reasons for anyone to be thrown off-course, least of all a baby, but they don't go very far in explaining why he hasn't adapted since.

The cot was a fair excuse the first night, but after almost three weeks, I would have expected him to get used to it, and even relish the extra legroom. The teething had started long before we left home, and I've been helping him out with Teetha Granules, Bongela, and Sophie the Giraffe all along. The hunger is a tricky one. He is taking 5 bottles of 7ozs per day, but not once has he drained every one of those bottles. Surely if he was waking up with hunger during the night, he'd be draining his 6am bottle? He never did. The heat is a double-edged sword. Séimí developed a sweat rash within 24 hours of arriving here, so we kept him out of the heat pretty much all day for the first week or 10 days while it cleared up. Other young parents we've met here have been telling us that the heat knocks their babies out for 10-14 hours per night, but we were conscious of the angry rash on his torso, and so only brought him swimming early in the morning or late in the evening. Maybe that was another mistake? During the second week, I knocked the air conditioning off while he slept, but that too, made no difference. My own Dad joined us the other day, and arrived brandishing what he believed would do the trick - Dozol. Again, we struck out. Calpol hadn't worked either. 

And so the aforementioned drawing board will be erected at our home in Dublin tonight. The big man had taken to allowing the little man come into our bed this week, which did seem to help - but that practice will stop cold turkey tonight. 

I would love to be in a position to offer words of wisdom to anyone heading away with their babies in the coming weeks, (good luck with the twins Anne!), but on this occasion I've drawn a blank. Luckily, despite the fact that he broke his mother and father, Séimí's nighttime antics didn't take away from his enjoyment (or ours truthfully), of his first holiday. He'd have spent all day in the pool given the chance, and thrived on the attention he drew from other holidaymakers. Thank you to my sister Annette, who joined us for a few days and carried the can while we made some effort at recuperating! Thank you to Paul who joined us at the same time and kept the big man sane, with 3 rounds of golf in 3 days. And Séimí, I know it's not your fault, but please, please, please go back to normal before Daddy goes back to work next week! 

PS: Aptamil is €25 per box in Spain but the local brand "Hero" is just perfect. Pampers are sold under the brandname "Dodot", and the Huggies swim nappies are readily available!

 

Chat next week friends,

 

E x