An ordinary day was followed by a not-so-ordinary night

... and not in a good way. E went to bed  last night without fuss. At 3.15am I heard her talking and grizzling and complaining, enough that I thought it worth getting out of bed to check on her and give her a quick pat, then back to sleep for both of us. Obviously no one told her that was the plan. 15 minutes later I was still patting and she was still talking and wiggling, with no sign of impending sleepiness. I decided that my being there was just making her more wakeful and she could sort herself out. 

E did not agree. Grizzling turned into full on roaring. After 20 minutes I gave up and went back. She was scrunched face down in a corner of the cot, screaming as loud and as fast as she could manage. When I picked her up she had one fist jammed as far back into her little mouth as she could get it and was absolutely rigid. And hysterically inconsolable. Ten minutes of pacing, cuddling,  patting, talking, singing did made absolutely no difference. She was every bit as upset as when I went in there. Either her teeth hurt her so much that my efforts to comfort her meant nothing, or she was absolutely distraught that I had left her alone in the dark when I knew she was awake (never mind that I often do this at bed time and she grumbles a little bit but generally falls asleep within 5-10 minutes). Her first two molars are coming through, and have been making her miserable for the past fortnight, nasty little blighters, so it may well have been that. Or something else entirely, who knows.

D helped me prise her away from my shoulder, forcibly held her clenched little fist away from her mouth and jammed the Panadol syringe down her throat. She spluttered, swallowed, and went right back to screaming. During our laps of the house she did point at the couch where she often has morning milk, and the feeding chair in her bedroom. I was hesitant about letting her have milk given we haven't done a middle of the night feed in about three months, but in the end felt too terrible about the state she was in, and the idea that I was witholding the one thing that I thought would almost certainly give her some comfort. It did. Magic milk. It's moments like those I am eternally grateful she still feeding, albeit only twice a day. Unfortunately it wasn't magic enough to put her back to sleep. After half an hour I prised her away, to be met with more screaming, whereupon I clamped her into a cradle hold and rocked and sang at the top of my voice. It worked, thank goodness. After ten minutes she calmed down enough that I could put her into bed and after another 5 minutes of patting she was asleep.

So 90 minutes after my first stumble into E's room for a "quick pat" I stumbled back to my own bed, wondering what had happened and really really really hoping that it was a very unusual and not-to-be-repeated event. Fingers crossed.

Postscript on Friday morning: Thursday night was fine, not a squeak, and a 6:30am wakeup, hurrah!