Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Evelyn Grace, and the Circadian Rhythm Debacle.


It was two weeks ago today that our newest beautiful daughter, Evelyn Grace, arrived into our world. After a lightening quick eighteen minute surgery, we heard the sweetest sounds that would ever come from her - the first breathe of life, followed immediately by the protesting cries of a once perfectly warm happy baby being flailed into a cold, sterile, blindingly white surgical room. While Geoff claims this surgery wasn't as "exciting" as the first one, I knew that the excitement was just beginning and could not wait to get my arms around that little bundle of fury.

Within an hour she was with me, and I could barely contain myself. I could also barely feel my body coming back from the paralysis of local anesthesia running through my lower half. But that didn't matter. She was happy, sleeping, and slept for the rest of the late afternoon until, night fell. And Evelyn Grace awoke. And stayed awake until the morning. Diaper changes, middle of the night bathings, tests from the night shift nurses all disturbed any chance any of us had at a decent sleep. But I didn't care. I could have stared at her all night. I held her the same way I held her sister both nights in the hospital and she was happy to sleep in my arms. And then we went home.

There's something called the Circadian Rhythm. It's basically the idea that humans naturally know that the daytime is for being awake, and the night time is for sleeping. Most people fall into this naturally; some of us have jobs or situations that mess our rhythm up, but in the end, we are not nocturnal creatures. For the last two weeks I was under the distinct impression that I had birthed a bat, or maybe an owl. Evelyn Grace sleeps, alot, during the day, but her night routine was insane. Up every three hours, without fail, and even more frequently if she had wet through the diaper, through the jammies, through the blanket. Her Circadian Rhythm clearly was not going to re-set itself.

After yesterday's two week check up, I asked her pediatrician if he knew any magic tricks. As a father of two daughters himself, he smiled and offered his advice, to which I promptly clamped onto in my memory bank. After she awoke from a long afternoon nap, every light in the house came on, all the drapes were pulled away and light filled our home. She stayed awake for about two and a half hours and then.... The witching hour came promptly at seven o'clock last night, and I let her cry. I let her cry hard. Experience tells me that this hour is filled with inconsolable wailing, and imitating billy-goat like sounds. Instead of trying to rock her to calm her and potentially put her to sleep, I cleaned the kitchen up. I took a shower, I put lotion on my legs and even brushed my hair out. At eight o'clock, Allison went to bed, and Evelyn and I settled in for a bottle and some bad reality television. She made it through the three ounces and passed out. I saw my opportunity and pounced.

Evelyn Grace might not give a repeat performance of last night's sweetest of sleeps. Sleeping from 8:30 until 3:30 for a two week old is unheard of. And continuing that sleep until 7:30 after a bottle and a changing? No way. But she'll be waking up in a little bit from that long afternoon nap. And all the lights are coming on in this house, and I'll hedge my bets that I can at least try and get things on track for good. A quiet house is a great thing, but happy wakeful baby is even better. And all the lights in the house cannot compare to the light in her eyes when she is awake during the day. :)

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