A co-worker once told a heavily pregnant me that his baby son didn't sleep through the night until he was 6 months old, which he and his wife considered "early." I couldn't understand why he was so pleased about it, because it sounded absolutely miserable. Six months of sleep deprivation?! I remember thinking that they must have had an especially difficult baby. No way that would happen to me.
Obviously I totally jinxed myself.
Today, I would sign up for that in a heart beat.
My girl is just days shy of 6 months, and sure, she could magically begin sleeping through the night at any time now (it did happen once). I could also win the lottery, and hell could also freeze over. I'm not holding my breath on any of those things right now.
I remember feeling vaguely smug when I was pregnant whenever someone would send me a silly parenting meme. "Never sleep in again?" I'd think to myself. "That's a bit dramatic." I figured my husband and I would just trade nights on baby duty, and I'd catch up on sleep on my off nights. Well, I was half right. My husband has been amazing about letting me sleep a couple of nights a week. But I'm still totally exhausted 100% of the time. Possibly 200%.
At this point I think it's better for me not to be optimistic about when my baby will start sleeping better, and just take it one (long-ass) night at a time. It will happen eventually, and it will be just like winning the lottery. Or hell freezing over.