maternal guilt

Had an awful night with Jonah. Half of it is my own damned fault, two friends came by to play cards and keep me company while C is away and they didn't leave 'til nearly two, so of course it was 2:30-ish before I fell asleep. Jonah woke up at 4:30 and was inconsolable. I nursed him, rocked him, walked him, cuddled with him, turned my back to him, shushed him, sang to him, rubbed his little head, nothing worked. I got more and more and more frustrated, more short tempered, more cold, less cuddly. When he finally nursed down at 6:15 he looked to tiny and sweet curled up in my big bed that I was flooded with guilt for being so impatient with him. He's still just a baby.