Sleep-Deprived New Parents Could Face Permanently Altered Sleep Patterns | NPR.org
All new parents experience what someone once described to me as “night duty in the jungle” sleep. You wake up easily and often because you have a new life to care for and that new life usually needs care multiple times each night. It’s just one of the many ways babies are selfish.
According to Dr. Rafael Pelayo of Stanford University’s Sleep Medicine Center in a story on NPR, these sleep disruptions can alter the brain’s chemistry, creating a permanent pattern of insomnia even after your kid is sleeping through the night. Cheery, I know.
There are ways to counter this and Pelayo claims you don’t need sleep aids like pills or booze to do it. Here are a few tips:
- If your mind is racing at bedtime, write a “To Do” list on a notepad, not a laptop or other digital device.
- If you wake up, don’t do chores. Instead, do something really boring such as read the warranty agreement for your refrigerator.
- Maintain a regular sleep schedule, even on weekends. That means no sleeping in.
That last one is where he lost me… Actually, he lost me at “no booze,” but whatever.
Our boys are sleeping through the night without interruption, but my wife and I still wake up multiple times per night. Usually, we can go right back to sleep, but we still wake up feeling a little under-rested. (Plus, last night my dog woke us up twice by barfing up portions of his dinner.)
My solution: After making it this far in life without using it, I now drink coffee in the morning. I’m also thinking about getting one of those isolation water tanks like they used in Altered States.
Lately, when the boys protest their bedtime, I distract them by asking them what they want to dream about. I go back and forth between their cribs, asking them each to contribute something to the dream. Then, I concoct a rough scenario for them. Most of the items are the same every night — lions and trucks regularly make the list — but they lead to some cool launching points. For example, last night’s premise was a flying zoo hovering above the city and to get to it you had to jump on a huge trampoline.
I tell them I expect a report on the dream in the morning, so they need to close their eyes and get started. It works every once in a while.
Mammalingo | So, I’m working on a new essay idea…
Melissa at Mammalingo wants your mom…
Wait. That came out wrong.
Seriously though, she’s a fantastic writer and she’s looking to interview your parents.
I will be honest and tell you that I haven’t thought it through that much yet. However, I’m a bit fascinated with how much of an industry getting our children to sleep has become. I know that I bought lots of books with my first baby. I see that there are professional “sleep trainers”… and products galore. But what where things like 20, 30 or 40 years ago (or more)? Here’s the weird question: do you think that any of YOUR parents would want to speak with me for the essay? I don’t know if it will end up being published anywhere except my blog. And, I would use first names only. If you think your mom or dad might be interested, please email me at mammalingo@gmail.com. I can send you writing samples (I’ve written frequently for The Chicago Tribune and Babble.com). My elementary school report cards. My most recent grocery store shopping list. DNA. Fingernail clippings. Whatever you need.
Morning Becomes Eclectic
Me:
"Good mornin', good moooornin'! We've talked the whole night through—"
Boone:
Dude, stop singing.
Me:
But, it's a great morning.
Wyatt:
Just get us out of these cribs. Why are you so chipper anyway?
Me:
For the second night in a row, you guys slept until 8 am.
Boone:
I don't see why that's such a big deal.
Me:
"When the band began to play the stars were shining bright—"
Wyatt:
Dude! Stop. Seriously.
Boone:
We've slept all night before.
Me:
That's true. There was a month or two when you guys were sleeping 12 straight hours, but then teething kicked in and you also started to become more curious.
Wyatt:
What do teeth and curiosity have to do with it?
Me:
Teething pain can wake you up and when your brain reaches a certain stage of development, you guys experience a kind of sensory overload. It makes it hard to fall asleep or go back to sleep once you've woken up.
Boone:
You're full of it, old man. I never experienced sensory overload. This wall feels rough. I want that yellow duck toy. Can I stick this diaper rash cream container in my mouth? I'm going to spastically wave my arms now.
Wyatt:
Well, I don't feel any different, but you are acting like you just snorted a Pixy Stix.
Me:
It's just been so long since I felt well-rested.
Boone:
If feeling well-rested means you're going to come in singing every morning, I'm going to start waking up early again.
Wyatt:
Me, too.
Me:
Your threats mean nothing to me right now, guys.
Wyatt:
Okay, then. If you don't hurry up and change my diaper, I'm going to have a meltdown.
Me:
Hold on. I'm almost done with Boone.
Wyatt:
You're not moving fast enough. I'm getting restless and when—
Me:
Here.
Wyatt:
Oh, a yellow duck toy. Hey, my pajamas have stripes. This mattress is bouncey. I'm going to shake my head and make a noise like a chimp. "Ooo! Ooo! Ooo!"
Boone:
You might as well start singing again. He'll be at that for a while.
High Anxiety
Wyatt:
AAAAAH! AAAAAAH! DUDE! DUDE! HEY, OLD DUDE!
Me:
Calm down, pal. It’s okay.
Wyatt:
Where were you?
Me:
In the living room.
Wyatt:
You can’t just leave me like that.
Me:
It’s bedtime. You’re safe in your crib.
Wyatt:
But, how do I know you’re not leaving me?
Me:
I am leaving you.
Wyatt:
What?!
Me:
No, I mean for the night. You go to sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.
Wyatt:
I don’t believe you. You’ll never come back, you selfish jerk.
Me:
I think I know what’s happening. You’re suffering “separation anxiety.”
Wyatt:
Don’t try using your fancy lingo with me. Just don’t leave.
Me:
You’re at the stage of development where you’re feeling anxious, maybe even scared when we aren’t in sight. You’ll get through it. And I’ll always be there for you when you wake up.
Wyatt:
Don’t mess with me, old man. I’m feeling very vulnerable right now.
Me:
I’m not messing with you. I mean it. I’ll always be around.
Wyatt:
Okay. That makes me feel better. Thanks.
Boone:
If you two Nancys are done with the love-fest, some of us are trying to sleep.
Shit They Don’t Tell You About Fatherhood: Sleep Deprivation
When you’re expecting a child, everybody jokes, “Get all the sleep you can now.” Even people who don’t have kids. Two problems with that:
1. Getting sleep before your child’s arrival won’t help you once said child arrives; and
2. After four months of almost no sleep, you will want to track down anyone who made that joke and slaughter them.
I brushed off those jokes. I knew it would be a challenge, that I’d be tired, but I was ready. “Plus,” I thought, “I’ve had stretches of no sleep, strings of all-nighters. I can hack it.” I’m here to tell you, sir, no you can’t. But it’s okay.
Let me explain what happens once your wee one comes home from the hospital. For the next 3-4 months, you will only get sleep in two-hour blocks because your baby will need to be fed every 2 hours. That’s not an exaggeration. It’s a fact. Can’t be changed. And those two-hour blocks only happen if you fall asleep right away, not lie awake panicking about all the shit new parents panic about. And that, of course, is only if you don’t have work or chores to do or if your baby doesn’t actually sleep the whole two hours. And here’s the thing—that’s not the worst part.
Sleep deprivation like that will actually make you go bonkers. Again, not an exaggeration. You will literally go bat-shit crazy. More than once. Sometimes, for weeks at a stretch. There’s a reason they used it at Gitmo as a torture technique. During these times, you can feel your sanity snap like a wet twig, then any rational thought becomes a hazy memory. You will do and say and think things that, upon reflection, will chill you to your soul, making you question if you ever had the qualities of a decent human being.
Now, I’m going to tell you something here that some may find offensive: New fathers, your wife or girlfriend will handle all this much better than you because they are biologically prepared for motherhood. I’m not saying they won’t also slip a cog now and then, but the recovery time will be much shorter, her fuse will be much longer, her patience will be much… more patient. And yes, this will further aggravate your mental instability.
The payoff, however, is that after that 3-4 months, you do get what could be considered a normal amount of sleep. (The first time that happens, you will feel a euphoria like no drug can produce.) You will also start to see things like your baby’s smile or a look of recognition on your baby’s face as you enter the room. That, sir, is pretty fucking cool and it starts the milestone marathon, which includes rolling over, solid foods, crawling, first words, standing, walking, hugs, drawing, maybe a garage band, driving, a DUI, some jail time, then a career as an adult film star.
Lastly, let me address what are called “dream babies.” Those are the rug-rats that sleep through the night from day one and have no trouble napping. You’ll undoubtedly hear someone talk about their child like this. When you meet these people, you can go ahead and punch them in the face. It’s like a service the universe provides for sleep-deprived parents.
Losing Daylight
Wyatt:
“...OOO, EEE, OOO, I LOOK JUST LIKE BUDDY HOLLY...”
Me:
Dude! What the hell?
Boone:
It’s time to get up.
Wyatt:
Yeah. Wake and bake, pop.
Me:
Wake and... Do you even know what that means?
Boone:
Does it have anything to do with toaster pastries?
Me:
Eventually, I guess.
Wyatt:
What do you mean?
Me:
You’ll find out in high school. Go back to sleep.
Wyatt:
It’s 7 in the a.m. Let’s get this day rolling!
Me:
It’s not. It’s 6 a.m.
Boone:
You sure, dude? It feels like 7 a.m.
Wyatt:
Feels like 7 a.m. to me, too. Uh-oh, old man. You know what this means.
Boone:
Alzheimer’s.
Me:
You guys haven’t adjusted for Daylight Saving Time.
Wyatt:
What’s Daylight Saving’s Time?
Me:
We set the clocks back to save energy or something. And it’s “Saving,” not “Saving’s.” It’s not a sale at Big Lots.
Boone:
So everyone sets their clocks back once a year?
Me:
And then we set them forward in the spring.
Wyatt:
Jesus. Make up your mind already.
Boone:
That explains why you put us to bed so late last night.
Me:
It was just an hour later and clearly it didn’t work.
Wyatt:
You should consider just getting up at 6 a.m. until the clocks get set forward again.
Me:
No way, dude.
Boone:
I don’t know what to tell you, pal. I’m up.
Wyatt:
Me, too. Ready to rock.
Me:
Okay, but this means I’ll have to push your naps back help get you back on track.
Boone:
Fine. I don’t need a nap anyway...
Me:
Wyatt, was that a yawn?
Wyatt:
What? No.
Me:
That was a yawn. I saw it.
Boone:
What are you doing, bro? Keep it together.
Wyatt:
I can’t help it. I’m getting tired.
Me:
Don’t fight it.
Boone:
Fight it! Fight!... Okay. All this is making me tired.
Me:
Too late. We’ve missed the window. Up and at ‘em, guys.
Wyatt:
You are such a jerk.
