Crying it out. (controlled crying)

We have all heard of controlled crying, Im sure we have all heard that latest research isnt recommending it. So what do you do when your little bubby is pushing the boundries of what you consider a possible amount of night feeds.
My six month old Arlo started out in this world as a dream baby, sleeping for 12 hours a night, never really crying a natural little self settler. Of course that was all about to change you see he's a crafty little bugger, once he realised that crying got him his mum, his mum got him a boob in his gob and a boob in his gob got him back to sleep in the most relaxing manner.
So how much is too much? I understand everyones threshold for night feeds vary, and mine may seem quite low to women who have 3 or 4 kids, however anything more then 2 night feeds and I begin to loose my shit.
So you can imagine how I felt the other night when Arlo had worked his way up to his 5th night feed, I cant function, I feel sick with exhaustion and I made the decision that there is no more Mrs Nice Mum- This is war Arlo and I will not be defeated.
You've got to hand it to the little ones, at only a few months old they learn the ins and outs of manipulating there way into even the most stubborn of mums beds.
So Crying it out is the only option, for me that is. I remember it working with my daughter Billie when she was a baby, back then I could handle even less sleep deprivation due to her being my first and me never really having to wake up for anything other then pregnant wee's before she came along. These days Im slightly more tolerant to it, thats probably why I have waiting until Arlo is 6 months before even flirting with the idea.
I call it crying it out instead of controlled crying because I actually cant stand the traditional controlled crying techniques, where you let them cry for a couple of minutes and then go into them, then they stop for a second and you do it all over again, in my experience that can last all night, I just have to let them cry until they fall asleep and be done with it.
So I set out for a night of tears, determined to turn my back on my little mans wales. I put him to bed at 6 and come 9pm he decided that a little bit of boosy was in order, I did nothing. I listened to him calling out for me, then I listened to the little chirps turn to screams as the shock of my absence set in, then I listened to the screams turn to sobs as his little heart broke and he came to the realisation that I wont always be there for him. Oh my god. My heart broke with his, I literally felt his little soul pounding against my heart. I love him with every part of me.
He finally fell asleep, defeated, heart broken. I checked on him to put his little blankets back on his little body and his breathing still had a sob to it. Of course you ask your self if your doing the right thing? If this is going to cause him or your relationship with him any long term damage? This was repeated 3 times that night, I didn't get any sleep, having to wait at least 30 minutes after he fell asleep every time to go and cover him back up and make sure he hadn't become tangled in his sheets. I made a promise to myself that one day I would explain to him what I had done, when he was old enough to understand and tell him that I never left, I was always right there listening, forcing myself to feel every bit of his pain, hoping that hearing this some little piece of his abandoned heart would be heeled.
In the morning Arlo was all smiles, Bill went to get him at 6am and he was peddling on his imaginary bicycle with a huge grin on his face, babies could teach us all a thing or 2 about forgiveness.
The following night Arlo didn't wake up once, well if he did he self settled, I had a good night sleep and he woke up happy again, I couldn't help but applaud myself and wonder if it works so well could it really be that bad? I don't think so, but in saying that I dont think its magic either, as last 3 nights ago he woke up once and I fed him, then 2 night ago he woke up twice and I crumbled again and last night the little bugger was back in my bed with his mouth snuggly wrapped around a boob for the entire night. Dam it, crafty little bugger.