Sorry, I had to leave the thread last night so you might all have gone away now!!
However, I did want to respond following Starlight's post (which was responding to mine...)
Forgive me - the following will be an essay (to read or not as people see fit!) but I need to put it down once and for all.
"I don't think many CCers do it because of extreme circumstances, or at least if that is the reason they have given they have usually an extremely narrowminded view of 'extreme'!"
I have tried not to personalise in this debate as I think the issues are clearly much wider but I do think there is too much generalising that goes on when it comes to CC so I wanted to present a specific case - me. An extremely narrow minded view of extreme?
We did do CC with DS. DS had hardly slept from the moment he was born and he screamed. A lot. When he was awake he either fed (yes, he was breastfed - on demand) or screamed. As it turned out he had GERD (reflux). Mostly silent but with daily bouts of projectile vomiting thrown in for good meaure. Lying him flat was pretty much the trigger for the acid to wash up and therefore wake him to start screaming all over again. This was a scream that could shatter glass and it certainly shattered me.
For his first few months he pretty much lived upright on me as it was the only way he could sleep. Needless to say this meant I did not sleep.
I had PND that kicked in the first night he was here and never let up. It was bad. It was exacerbated by sleep deprivation to the point that I sometimes hallucinated. I cried a lot. I had dark thoughts that haunt me to this day.
I tried very hard to hide the PND from DS. I cuddled him a lot, stroked him, sang to him, read to him, nursed him through the screaming.
The rest of life stopped. I expected that. Of course I did.
Finally we did get his symptoms under control with medications after a battle with the medical profession. This left him with entrenched and very poor sleep habits. So he still did not sleep. So on top of all the other guilt I felt for my PND I now had the guilt that carrying him around upright, feeding to sleep etc. etc. had left him not knowing how to fall asleep by himself. So that was my fault too.
The PND and exhaustion raged on. My life was feeding him, winding him and, in between feeding him expressing like a cow hooked up to a milking machine because he would only take one of his medications mixed in with expressed milk. (On the positive side I was a milk-producing expert - I could express a full bottle in 15 minutes flat in my heyday!)
DS was exhausted. He was suffering and he looked terrible. He so badly wanted to sleep but how many more days and nights could I keep upright?
Believe me, I tried a lot of things. Then, yes, I was advised to try CC. I was adamantly against. But I tried. I failed after about five minutes.
In the end I called in a professional to help me (actually I wanted a night nanny first so I could sleep a little to give me the strength to cope - but I was referred t0 a lady who bacme a godsend). The first night she was with me (swaddling and a short period of crying) he slept from midnight to 6.30. He woke up and started chatting and singing to himself. It was the first time I thought that there was an alternative to killing myself or living in hell. It was a bit of a one-off but he was so desperate to
sleep that it worked!)
It was then a gradual process of decreasing my interventions. It had set backs because ocassionally his pain would flare up
- or I would suspect it of flaring up so I would be back in in a nanosecond. Or I would give in because my nerves and emotions were being flayed. I felt wretched beyond belief and my instincts to go to him tore me apart.
It became controlled crying. Over a very short period of time but it felt like an eternity to me.
We got through it. He was so much happier.
I got through my PND.
Now? If cries in the night I either go to him straight away or leave him for a maximum of five minutes to see if he will fall back to sleep (depends on the cry, whether he is ill etc.) We are close. He is happy and secure and knows he is loved. He is a good sleeper!
I do not beleive he was in any way damaged emtionally by a fleeting interval in his life when we did CC.
So yes, I was "overwhelmed by the demands of a new baby". I was sure as hell "taken by surprise". Did I have unrealistic expectations? I don't think so. I was not expecting a rose garden but this was, to me, infiinitely worse than what I had imagined.
Did I have "strategies in place to enable [me]to cope with a newborn"? Clearly not. Not sure what I could have done. Sent him back?!
CC for me was NOT about "needing to present an external image of 'coping'". It was about my sanity and the welfare of both my baby and me.
I completely understand why people are against CC. I was too. But I do feel hurt and frustrated when people who employ it are written off automatically as automatons who are either too wussy/selfish to cope with a newborn or unfeeling enough to shove them at the bottom of the garden and leave them until school age. There may be some like that. It was not me and I suspect my story is not isolated.
Was there an alternative? Maybe. Probably. But I did what I felt I had to at the time. It worked. He was happier and healthier. He goes to bed happliy, he wakes up and chats or sings to himself. If he needs me in the night he knows I will be there. Which I am.
I believe I owed it to him to help him.
I do have strong notions of what I believe are the needs and best interests of a baby. His welfare and happiness are pretty high on the list and if I felt that a few nights worth of having to cry on his own for a short time were what was needed as part of that, then so be it.
Would I do it again? Not if I could avoid it. But put it this way, I would not have another child again and go through that first year again if my life depended on it.
I did not expect my life to snap back to how it was before. I am not stupid. Life will never be the same again - I never expected it to be.
I am not a stereotype. I am a devoted mother. I make mistakes. But I love DS and he loves me.
End of.