Last night, Justin was putting Lizzy down to sleep. Lately, every once in awhile, she throws an absolute fit about being laid down in her crib. At the suggestion of Justin's mom, we've started putting something that smells like me in her crib (she has a half bear half blanket that I lay on my pillow once a week or so while I'm sleeping), and that has helped a TON.
However, last night, she was having a hard time going down. Justin had gone in two or three times when she started fussing to rub her belly (we try not to talk to her or pick her up, because that wakes her up even more). She started fussing again, and I started to get up, but Justin said, "Sit down, I've got it." He went back in and rubbed her belly, and she fell asleep.
About a half an hour later, we heard her start to cry. Justin got up, headed back towards her room. I heard the door open and close.
Two minutes later, Lizzy was still crying. I was tempted to get up and take over, but I have really been trying not to be that helicopter mom who takes the baby away from her husband as soon as the baby starts to cry. Justin is a completely competent and capable father, and he can handle a crying baby. Lizzy calmed down, and just when I was sure that she was out cold, she started screaming again.
Again, I had to convince myself to stay on the couch, and let Justin handle the situation. I kept reminding myself how irritated I get when people tell me that what I'm doing with Lizzy is wrong, and by going in to swoop Lizzy out of Justin's arms, I'm doing the same thing. If he was feeling overwhelmed, he would come out and tell me that he needed a break.
I tried to distract myself, but I couldn't help but watch the clock.
Two minutes passed.
Three minutes. Still crying.
Four minutes, and she's really starting to get mad. Again, I reminded myself that she's not alone, and Justin can handle this.
Five minutes passed, and I had to go back into our bedroom to try and distract myself fully. This mamma's heart just couldn't take it anymore, even though I kept telling myself that Justin would be doing everything he could to calm her down. So, I headed back into the bedroom, tried to get myself settled in bed with a book. All of a sudden, I heard Justin cough. From inside the master bathroom. I let out a string of expletives because JUSTIN IS NOT IN WITH LIZZY. HE IS IN THE FREAKING BATHROOM.
I ran into Lizzy's bedroom, and swooped her up from the weird position she had gotten herself into. Once she was in my arms, I teared up and kept telling her that we love her and we were so sorry. My poor snot-covered baby just curled up in my arms and whimpered. Within a minute, she was out cold, but I think my heart kept breaking for another hour.
I felt so, so terrible. We do let Lizzy fuss it out on occasion, but she hasn't completely mastered the self-soothing thing yet, so as soon as she starts to really get worked up, we go in and rub her belly or her head to make sure she knows we haven't abandoned her. Ugh. I hate that she was full on crying for so long without us there.
Once Justin came out of the bathroom, I told him what happened, and he just hugged me. I still feel awful.
And now I am considering going back to 4th grade and making bathroom passes for our house, so that the other one KNOWS they are on baby duty in the event that it's needed.