Sleeping like a baby. Yeah, right!

Sleepy head

Three weeks ago today, baby Milly made her grand entrance into the world. So naturally, for the last 21 days Mr J and I have been talking non stop about one thing. Sleep. Or, more accurately our current lack of the glorious thing that is continuous, uninterrupted shut-eye.

Feel free to roll your eyes now, we’re fully aware that we’re shamelessly exhibiting the most annoying stereotypical new parent behaviour (bar perhaps sharing via social media the colour and consistency of the contents of her every nappy – we all know somebody who does this, right?).

Before becoming a parent, I was determined I would never fall into the trap of pursuing the yawn-inducing (how ironic!) line of new parent conversation that is sleep. However, I massively underestimated the power of the daily urge to dissect in the minutest of detail the lack of sleep you had the night before. In the early weeks with a newborn it’s a compulsive behaviour that’s truly too all-consuming to resist. So your morning cuppa is inevitably accompanied by analysis of how many times your little bundle of joy disrupted your slumber and your afternoon cake conversation with friends is dominated by your cunning plans to improve the direness of the bedtime situation. You will try anything and spend every penny you can muster to help your newborn learn what you come to realise is one of life’s greatest skills – the ability to sleep through the night.

But second time around on the rollercoaster that is parenthood surely you’re prepared for the sleepless nights and buoyed by the knowledge they don’t actually last forever you can power on through without fuss or daily obsession? Wrong. The compulsion to discuss, ponder and bemoan your little bundle of loveliness’ sleep(less) patterns still gets it’s claws into you regardless of how experienced you are with the parenting malarkey.

In my rose-tinted post-birth haze, when Milly decided she would only sleep cuddled up in the cutest little bundle on me during the two nights we spent in hospital post-birth, I naively embraced sleeplessness. In fact, I cherished these snuggly nights with my sweet, content, cuddle-loving new baby girl. A few nights later when her moses basket was still yet to be slept in and with under eye bags heavily weighing down my face, the haze started to lift as fears that I may never sleep again snuck into my consciousness. My search for a magical solution began with haste.

Now there are certain parents out there who admirably survive with minimal ‘baby stuff’. Fortunately for the fortunes of the ever-growing tribe of product-inventing mumpreneurs out there and state of the retail industry in general, I’m not one of them. From Mummy Mitts to BuggyBoards, I NEED ‘the stuff’. So, when sleeplessness hit me like a brick wall, I knew what I had to do – throw money at the problem and get shopping! After consulting a friend and the oracle of all things baby-shopping related (a.k.a. the John Lewis website) I purchased the SleepyHead – a slightly bizarre looking contraption that promised a magical cure by cocooning my sleep-reluctant baby into a peaceful slumber by mimmicking the cosiness of the womb.  I bought into the hype (along with premium next day delivery) and hoped our sleep saviour would conveniently be delivered with the post the next morning. And guess what? It did. The SleepyHead works.

It may be a little on the spendy side and changing the sheets is a complete faff, but the SleepyHead has given us the gift of uninterrupted night-time sleep in two hour long portions, and for that we will be forever indebted to its Swedish designer for. Whoever thought two hours sleep would feel like such a victory, eh? Clearly, two hours sleep in a row is not enough to declare a solution to baby-induced sleepless nights, and neither has it stopped us obsessing daily about sleep routines while searching fruitlessly for a reason why last night was better (or worse) than the previous, however,  it has restored us with hope that sleep will some day once again reign in the Johnson household. And what a glorious thought that is.

* Please note this post is not sponsored by SleepyHead. We are just very thankful we stumbled across this genius product!

 

 

 

 

 

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