Pagers and phantom cries

The last time I had to carry a pager was in residency. We each had our personal pager, each inpatient team had a pager, and the code team had pagers, so that, at any given time, one person could have up to 4 pagers they were responsible for answering. At the beginning of the shift, those of us neurotic enough to do so would change the ring tone of each pager so that we knew which one was going off without having to pull the pager out. The benefit of this was paramount if you were carrying the code pager. The code pager going off meant you started running for the stairwell before you even read the page to know which room you were headed for. All the other ringtones could wait for you to finish whatever you were in the middle of before responding. I so dreaded being on the code team, and it got to the point that I dreaded the sound of the code pager going off. So much so that if I ever forgot to change the team pager ringtone and it was the same as the code pager, I would suffer a minor panic attack the first time it went off during my shift. And then I would immediately change it. The code pager ring tone gave me so much anxiety. I would think about it going off and my world would get small, my breath would get short, and my stomach would start doing flip flops. It got to the point that I would hear phantom code pager tones as I tried to go to sleep.

Now I no longer carry a pager. Instead, I have a newborn. And the anxiety of waiting for the other shoe to drop is even worse. As I lay her down and tiptoe out of the room, I cringe every time I hear a noise. Is she awake? Is she crying? Have I lost my 25 minutes of peace? (Because that's how long every. single. one. of her naps are right now.) I turn the shower on, or lay down for a nap, or start cooking dinner, and I start to hear phantom cries. I even hear them in the car when I know I've left her at home with Daddy. I'm always on high alert, trying to listen for her. And I can feel my cortisol spiking. It's the same claustrophobia, the same shortness of breath, the same sense of dread. But this time, there's no end of shift coming when I can pass the code pagers off. There's no end of the rotation, or even end of residency. Parenthood doesn't have days off. And I think that's why it's even more stressful. Even if she does stay blissfully asleep until I'm ready for bed, there's no telling when she will get up in the middle of the night. And even if she doesn't get up (much) in the middle of the night, there's always the crappy napping tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day.

Yet just like in residency, I can't control when the interruptions will come. I would rather lay down and be woken up than sit up all night waiting for the pager to chime or the baby to cry. I tell myself it is just a phase, that someday, hopefully, I can get more than 25 minutes to myself during the day, or get more than 3 hours of sleep in a row at night. But I may not. And that's the lifestyle I've chosen. Truthfully, it's the life I've been blessed with. And I wouldn't trade it for all the sleep in the world.

Wait, is that an option?