When I say "I am done..."

Last night was a mini melt-down by yours truly. I had a busy day yesterday, visiting the office, making lasagna and apple pie while caring for a baby that won't sleep. The more she went without sleep, the more I couldn't leave her to do other things and the more I worried that she'd be cranky all night. My mom and my sister came over for dinner (after all the men in the family dropped out for various conflicting obligations) and helped try to get O to sleep, but no luck.
When John came home for the evening I told him that he could eat dinner, then he had to take care of Olivia....I am done, I needed a break! So, while he was eating, Olivia started to go to sleep. (of course) And by the time he was done, I had put her in the pack and play to sleep until her next feeding.
A half hour before she was due for a feeding, she woke up and started to cry. But, it was John's turn, so I stayed put, assuming all she needed was to SLEEP. I told him that she probably needed to be swaddled (as this helps her to sleep when her limbs aren't flailing around). So, he took her to be swaddled (John is the expert swaddler...nice and tight little burrito). When her cries only got worse, I took out the breastmilk from the fridge (supply for her nightly feeding with daddy). Unfortunately this was not soon enough.
John came storming downstairs in a panic. "She needs to eat NOW". Everything went into emergency mode. When John is in emergency mode, he runs around like a chicken with his head cut off. If something isn't easily resolved, he gets upset and sometimes does the least logical thing in order to get out of the situation. This time, it was not waiting for the breastmilk to warm to room temperature, as everything you read says it needs to be. He put the cold milk in a bottle and fed it to her. All the while, I was losing my calm. I was too exhausted and started to freak out that I had been dealing with this all day and he gets fifteen minutes of fussiness and all of a sudden the world has to stop. Then he sits down on the couch to feed her and the burp cloth, right in front of him, was too far away. "I need the burp cloth!" He exclaims, in an urgent tone as he reaches out his hand toward the burp cloth right in front of him.
That was the straw that broke the tired-mamma's back! "It's amazing I get anything done during the day!" I exclaimed. I mean, I don't have anyone to get things for me that are just out of reach during the day AND I made it clear that I was exhausted. It does NOT help that I had to worry about him being in full panic mode for what seemed, to me, to be small beans in the grand scheme of things that we will need to panic about as parents.
I will say this, Olivia WAS hungry and the bottle did soothe her. The combo tired-hungry baby did not make for a good evening, but we can't panic every time the baby is upset, what kind of child are we going to raise if everything is an emergency? I wonder. I think about having to deal with a child who can't take the time to stop when things get complicated or don't go according to plan...
It didn't help that the mommy in me was concerned about her getting cold breast milk. Thank goodness for Google! I just typed in "can my baby have cold breastmilk?" and immediately got a list of posts on the same topic (Google helps us all realize we are not alone ;-) ) And, yes, it's fine to have cold breastmilk...if the baby will take it. Since they are used to the stuff served at body temp., they may not (And a tired, hungry baby may get worse.) But, in Olivia's case, she sucked back the cold one. (That is what I love about her, she has, thus far, adapted to all kinds of changes.)
I am sure I am not the first new mom to experience this with her husband..but it just gets to you. Yes, he's at work all day and you're not, but that doesn't mean that your life isn't a daily trial by fire. What would happen to the world if every woman, like their male counterparts, went into panic mode when the baby got upset? I am not pontificating on this to say that I am handling everything perfectly, but one cannot only think about the here and now..but how we react as parents for the long run. Being with Olivia, for 99.9% of the time is pure joy...it brings me peace and love like I have never known...but for that .1% of the time when she is upset, I try to remain calm and figure out what she needs. I am not normally a person who is always calm under pressure, but she brings it out in me. Why can't she do that for daddy?
Anyway, as I was saying, the burp cloth was the last straw... I threw it at him and left the room. I could not handle any more mountains out of molehills, I was going to pump, take a shower and go to sleep. John was on his own.
And, he did a great job. I woke up at around 11pm to find him asleep in the glider next to a swaddled Olivia in her crib. It's amazing how sometimes he is the yin to my yang. Even though "I am done" really didn't communicate to him "I need peace and I need you to deal with the baby.", my mini-meltdown did the trick. I guess sometimes we just need to walk away and the men WILL figure it out. The more I write this, the more I think about the great things John DOES do as a dad and I feel guilty for complaining about the isolated incidents. But, like a woman, I am completely justified in ALL of it. Men are not.
Now that I am done blogging, I will return to my super-mom duties and do laundry and make home-made bread before I have to wake up O to breastfeed. What ho! I hear the babe beckon now! I bid thee adieu!