I'm typing this at 4am. Why? Insomnia? Crying baby? Nope. Far worse. It's baby jet lag.
Jet lag is something we've had to deal with as long as we've lived overseas. When you take an airplane across 12 time zones, your body gets confused and it takes a week to get back to normal. In the past, it was quaint. I'd get really sleepy at 1pm and try to power my way through with some caffeine. I would fight to stay up until 8pm, then I'd wake up at 3am, wide awake and hungry for dinner.
But with kids, jet lag is horrible. Imagine a toddler flopping on her back on the floor in the middle of the afternoon, moaning and trying to sleep, but also fighting sleep- for an hour. Or a toddler and a baby waking up for the day at 1am. I can't imagine what our downstairs neighbors think when they hear Trey's walker rolling across the floor at that hour.
Honestly, this time around our jet lag has been the best we've ever had. It only took 3 days to get to a 6pm bedtime, thanks to some mid-afternoon baths and trips to the playground. We were thinking we would be back to a normal sleep schedule tomorrow. But just when I think I'm safe, Cosi is shaking me awake at 3am and I'm blogging in the middle of the night while Sesame Street plays on the TV...
Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts
Monday, January 30, 2012
Friday, December 2, 2011
Going to the doctor in Asia...
Sometimes it's worth it to pay a taxi $100 to drive you to the Western Hospital located 2 hours away. Delivering a baby = worth it! That's where Trey was born.
Other times, like when your kid has a cold, it doesn't seem worth it. Instead, you might choose to visit a local clinic. One time we took Rob to a local clinic (after a bagel cutting injury - you might be surprised at how often that happens in the usa) and it was gross, both the clinic and Rob's cut finger. After he paid about one dollar for the doctor to see him, he was taken into an examining room. The last patient had left some blood on the bed and vomit on the floor. I guess they weren't in a hurry to clean up? (side note: there are much nicer hospitals in EA. This was not one of them)
Anyhow, I wasn't going to take my sick baby to a clinic like that. I took him to a Singaporean clinic. Singaporeans are quite Western, so I felt comfortable with the doctor. And - Trey just had a bad cold, so it's not like he needed to be airlifted back to the US.
I was happy with the clinic, but I had some funny moments.
When they wanted to know my 7 month old boy's weight, the nurse asked me to let him stand up on the scale. At first I doubted my East Asian language ability, so I had her repeat her request. Then I explained that he's a baby and he can't stand up yet. I guess they don't have scales for babies? I gave her an estimate of his weight, problem solved.
The doctor saw us immediately, no waiting. Is it good that they weren't busy? I don't know, but I like not having to wait. We went straight into his office. The doctor spoke perfect English, better than my English even (or at least it sounded that way because he had a cool British accent). He listened to Trey's chest and agreed that Trey had/has a respiratory infection. Since Trey's breathing was so labored, he recommended a nebulizer treatment to open up his airways for a bit.
That's how we ended up in the storage room with no heat. It said "procedure room" on the door, but it seemed more like a storage room. It seemed even more like a storage room when 20 minutes into the treatment, a nurse brought a few boxes into the room to...umm... store. She seemed surprised to see us, which only adds to my theory...
The nebulizer treatment wasn't so bad if you like holding down your struggling infant son and listening to his pathetic whimpers for help. I don't like doing that, so I thought it was awful. I kept alternating between praying for him to rest and get well and praying for him to have the memory of a goldfish ( i.e. short). Thankfully, Trey fell asleep after 10 minutes of struggle. Of course, he has a battle scar to remind me of my betrayal. Somehow we scratched his cheek? I was so thankful after the treatment was finished, glad to have it behind us. Then, they told me we needed to do it again. Darn.
I was thankful for a cold room. I might have been sweating a bit. I'm a nervous sweat-er. Trey had a blanket to keep him warm on one side and my body heat on the other side. He was okay. The metal chair was a bit uncomfortable, but I don't think any chair would have felt great while holding a baby in those circumstances.
The second treatment woke him up, but it seemed to go faster. When I noticed the medicine was gone, I turned off the machine. I waited 20 min in the cold room while Trey slept. After he woke up, we wandered out. The nurses seemed surprised to see me (not sure if they had forgotten me or thought I was rude for leaving the room). I smiled and jiggled the boy in a classic "just walking the baby around to keep him happy" gesture.
After I emerged from the room, the nurses must have felt the need to do something with us. One nurse brought in a tool that gets your heart rate via your finger, except it was built for an adult sized finger and a finger that wouldn't wiggle constantly. Trey's a big boy, but his finger is still itty-bitty and it moves a lot. She tried 5 times to get his heart rate before I finally intervened. Kudos to me for being patient! I gracefully told her (in no uncertain terms) that she should give up on getting his heart rate that way, it was never going to work. I guess she decided that she didn't need his heart rate after all.
We're going back again today. We'll do another neb treatment. It seemed to help him relax and breathe a little easier. It's so sad to see our little guy sick. Baby laryngitis & wheezing is beyond pathetic. But, it does make me thankful for his generally good health. However - I've gone from very little sleep to very very little sleep. Rob and I are taking turns holding Trey upright while he sleeps. I'm really thankful not to be a single parent right now. Days & nights like this make me really respect single parents that strive to care for children by themselves.
Other times, like when your kid has a cold, it doesn't seem worth it. Instead, you might choose to visit a local clinic. One time we took Rob to a local clinic (after a bagel cutting injury - you might be surprised at how often that happens in the usa) and it was gross, both the clinic and Rob's cut finger. After he paid about one dollar for the doctor to see him, he was taken into an examining room. The last patient had left some blood on the bed and vomit on the floor. I guess they weren't in a hurry to clean up? (side note: there are much nicer hospitals in EA. This was not one of them)
Anyhow, I wasn't going to take my sick baby to a clinic like that. I took him to a Singaporean clinic. Singaporeans are quite Western, so I felt comfortable with the doctor. And - Trey just had a bad cold, so it's not like he needed to be airlifted back to the US.
I was happy with the clinic, but I had some funny moments.
When they wanted to know my 7 month old boy's weight, the nurse asked me to let him stand up on the scale. At first I doubted my East Asian language ability, so I had her repeat her request. Then I explained that he's a baby and he can't stand up yet. I guess they don't have scales for babies? I gave her an estimate of his weight, problem solved.
The doctor saw us immediately, no waiting. Is it good that they weren't busy? I don't know, but I like not having to wait. We went straight into his office. The doctor spoke perfect English, better than my English even (or at least it sounded that way because he had a cool British accent). He listened to Trey's chest and agreed that Trey had/has a respiratory infection. Since Trey's breathing was so labored, he recommended a nebulizer treatment to open up his airways for a bit.
That's how we ended up in the storage room with no heat. It said "procedure room" on the door, but it seemed more like a storage room. It seemed even more like a storage room when 20 minutes into the treatment, a nurse brought a few boxes into the room to...umm... store. She seemed surprised to see us, which only adds to my theory...
The nebulizer treatment wasn't so bad if you like holding down your struggling infant son and listening to his pathetic whimpers for help. I don't like doing that, so I thought it was awful. I kept alternating between praying for him to rest and get well and praying for him to have the memory of a goldfish ( i.e. short). Thankfully, Trey fell asleep after 10 minutes of struggle. Of course, he has a battle scar to remind me of my betrayal. Somehow we scratched his cheek? I was so thankful after the treatment was finished, glad to have it behind us. Then, they told me we needed to do it again. Darn.
I was thankful for a cold room. I might have been sweating a bit. I'm a nervous sweat-er. Trey had a blanket to keep him warm on one side and my body heat on the other side. He was okay. The metal chair was a bit uncomfortable, but I don't think any chair would have felt great while holding a baby in those circumstances.
The second treatment woke him up, but it seemed to go faster. When I noticed the medicine was gone, I turned off the machine. I waited 20 min in the cold room while Trey slept. After he woke up, we wandered out. The nurses seemed surprised to see me (not sure if they had forgotten me or thought I was rude for leaving the room). I smiled and jiggled the boy in a classic "just walking the baby around to keep him happy" gesture.
After I emerged from the room, the nurses must have felt the need to do something with us. One nurse brought in a tool that gets your heart rate via your finger, except it was built for an adult sized finger and a finger that wouldn't wiggle constantly. Trey's a big boy, but his finger is still itty-bitty and it moves a lot. She tried 5 times to get his heart rate before I finally intervened. Kudos to me for being patient! I gracefully told her (in no uncertain terms) that she should give up on getting his heart rate that way, it was never going to work. I guess she decided that she didn't need his heart rate after all.
We're going back again today. We'll do another neb treatment. It seemed to help him relax and breathe a little easier. It's so sad to see our little guy sick. Baby laryngitis & wheezing is beyond pathetic. But, it does make me thankful for his generally good health. However - I've gone from very little sleep to very very little sleep. Rob and I are taking turns holding Trey upright while he sleeps. I'm really thankful not to be a single parent right now. Days & nights like this make me really respect single parents that strive to care for children by themselves.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Sleep and the Sinful Daddy
I have mixed emotions about last night. Cosi slept through the night. But I think the cold medicine had a lot to do with it :-/
Each week, Cosi sleeps through the night about twice. Another 2 or so nights, she wakes up once or twice, but only long enough for me to put her back to bed. Then there are usually several nights a week where she wakes up every 20-30 minutes over the course of 3 hours. Often she is screaming, like she's having nightmares. Since nature hasn't equipped me to handle Trey's needs when he wakes up at night, I leave him to April, which means Cosi is my night-time responsibility.
I always pictured myself as the kind and sympathetic father, who at all hours would go and comfort my daughter, rocking her back to sleep. Sometimes, I am alike that. But sometimes, it is 3 a.m., I haven't slept yet that night, I know that her brother will be awake in 2 hours, and I'm grumpy. (I also have a theory that Cosi and Trey telepathically communicate to make sure that one of them is awake at all times...) That's when my sleepy, muddled mind justifies standing at her door and sternly telling my crying child to "Go back to sleep." Yeah, Rob, good one. Do you think she is standing there sniffling through tears thinking, "What am I supposed to do now? I'm sleepy, it's dark, there's my bed. What should I do? Won't some stern, unsympathetic voice please give me a command?"
[side note: For those who haven't had a toddler, you may be inclined to think, as I once did, that any child who is awake for much of the night is bound to make up for it by sleeping some during the day. You would be suffering from false hope if thought that. For Cosi, there is absolutely no correlation between sleepless nights and nap days.]
But then there are moments that remind me why I need to ignore that base desire to intimidate my child to sleep. The other night, sometime around 2 a.m., she was up for the dozenth time that night, and I was holding her in my lap, slowly rocking her until she stopped crying. I checked to see if her eyes were closed, and in the dim light from next room, I could see that her eyes were wide-open...and she was smiling. She looked up at me, pulled her thumb from her mouth, and whispered a happy "Hi!" She went to sleep not long after that...but then she woke up 20 minutes later- just long enough for me to get back in bed and start to doze off.
Later that same night/morning, she woke up crying and told me she wanted food. I have a big bag of individually wrapped bread rolls for just such an occasion. She asked me to unwrap the roll, and then, rather than eat it, she lay it in front of her on the bed, so she could look at it while she slept. Last night she did the same thing with a carrot stick. I've read that adopted children sometimes live in fear that they will not get their next meal. It helps to have food nearby, even if they're not hungry. How sinful and selfish do I need to be to try to bully a child like that into going back to bed quickly just so I can get to sleep?
Of course, I'm saying all this with the clarity of a full 6 hours of sleep behind me...
Each week, Cosi sleeps through the night about twice. Another 2 or so nights, she wakes up once or twice, but only long enough for me to put her back to bed. Then there are usually several nights a week where she wakes up every 20-30 minutes over the course of 3 hours. Often she is screaming, like she's having nightmares. Since nature hasn't equipped me to handle Trey's needs when he wakes up at night, I leave him to April, which means Cosi is my night-time responsibility.
I always pictured myself as the kind and sympathetic father, who at all hours would go and comfort my daughter, rocking her back to sleep. Sometimes, I am alike that. But sometimes, it is 3 a.m., I haven't slept yet that night, I know that her brother will be awake in 2 hours, and I'm grumpy. (I also have a theory that Cosi and Trey telepathically communicate to make sure that one of them is awake at all times...) That's when my sleepy, muddled mind justifies standing at her door and sternly telling my crying child to "Go back to sleep." Yeah, Rob, good one. Do you think she is standing there sniffling through tears thinking, "What am I supposed to do now? I'm sleepy, it's dark, there's my bed. What should I do? Won't some stern, unsympathetic voice please give me a command?"
[side note: For those who haven't had a toddler, you may be inclined to think, as I once did, that any child who is awake for much of the night is bound to make up for it by sleeping some during the day. You would be suffering from false hope if thought that. For Cosi, there is absolutely no correlation between sleepless nights and nap days.]
But then there are moments that remind me why I need to ignore that base desire to intimidate my child to sleep. The other night, sometime around 2 a.m., she was up for the dozenth time that night, and I was holding her in my lap, slowly rocking her until she stopped crying. I checked to see if her eyes were closed, and in the dim light from next room, I could see that her eyes were wide-open...and she was smiling. She looked up at me, pulled her thumb from her mouth, and whispered a happy "Hi!" She went to sleep not long after that...but then she woke up 20 minutes later- just long enough for me to get back in bed and start to doze off.
Later that same night/morning, she woke up crying and told me she wanted food. I have a big bag of individually wrapped bread rolls for just such an occasion. She asked me to unwrap the roll, and then, rather than eat it, she lay it in front of her on the bed, so she could look at it while she slept. Last night she did the same thing with a carrot stick. I've read that adopted children sometimes live in fear that they will not get their next meal. It helps to have food nearby, even if they're not hungry. How sinful and selfish do I need to be to try to bully a child like that into going back to bed quickly just so I can get to sleep?
Of course, I'm saying all this with the clarity of a full 6 hours of sleep behind me...
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