it isn't the night waking.
the worst part isn't having to get up and change a diaper or a wet through outfit.
it isn't walking downstairs, half asleep, waiting for the tap water to warm up to make a bottle.
the worst part isn't bringing a baby into your bed for the night.
it isn't even the disappointment you get when your significant other doesn't pull what you feel to be his or her share of the duties in the middle of the night.
the worst part is hearing that what you're doing, what has worked just fine in your mind for somewhere between eight months and five years, is maybe not what you "should" be doing. forget whether the "should" holds any merit. the worst part is waking up at 12.30am, knowing your standard routine that keeps everyone relatively rested is now this great big question mark that could potentially be harming your child just because someone you trust, and some quack in a book told you it might be so. so now what works turns into something you doubt. something that wasn't too bad plagues you as something you maybe should avoid, morphing a manageable routine into something by which you are mildly concerned and socially judged.
the next time my pediatrician asks if my son sleeps through the night without eating, i'm just going to lie and tell her yes.