Rock a Bye Baby, in Mommy's Bed

 

     One of my very earliest memories of my life is not Christmas, or a birthday party, or my first day of school... It's peeing in my parent's bed. I remember it as clear as day.  I was around two years old and I was laying there between my parents, snug as a bug and happy as could be. Then suddenly, as if on fire, well more accurately as if just peed upon, they both jumped out of bed, leaving me laying there, groggy, confused and pretty damp.

     I loved sleeping in my parent's bed. I'm not sure what age I was when I was finally evicted, but I clearly remember sleeping in my baby sister's room in a sleeping bag on the floor when she was small enough to be in a crib, which would have made me four years old. After that, it was both my sister and myself tucked into sleeping bags on my parent's floor, then to my sister and I sharing my bed in my room until I was around the age of nine or ten as far as memory serves. Eventually I did sleep on my own, but to be honest, I've always hated it. I love watching and reading scary things and have always preferred a bed mate and a television on to help with my relentless nocturnal fears.

     I never pictured that I would co sleep with my child, however. Well, that's a lie. I always knew that if he came to me in the night, scared of a boogie man or worse, I could never turn him away. But I always assumed it would be a bridge that I would cross a few years down the road, once he could walk into the room on his own accord.

     Publicly, I know that the practice of co-sleeping is somewhat frowned upon, but I also know that it is a pretty widely used method of sleeping in actual life, especially for nursing mothers. So for the moment, I would like to pull back the veil of shame and share with you my family's journey from crib to co-op.

     Let me begin by saying that I am probably one of the more paranoid people that you will ever meet. I'm pretty much just under the mark to be diagnosable. I worry constantly about everything. Prior to having Archer, I worried that the hospital would give me the wrong baby. I planned to never have him out of my sight. It turns out however, that this is not even a little bit possible in the real world, but luckily my son came out looking like his father's identical twin so there was no mix up possible there. Still, when the nurses asked if I wanted him in the nursery or in my room overnight, I knew that I would get exactly zero rest if he was not by my side. Mama bear had already kicked in. So those first few nights in the hospital we room shared.

     By our first night at home, it already felt incredibly strange to have him in his own room even though his nursery is literally right off of our bedroom. It's about ten feet from our bed through a doorway to his crib, but it felt like a world away. I can remember feeling the most overwhelming anxiety when I placed him in his crib and walked out of the room that first night. It felt like my right arm had been removed and placed in another room of my home. I watched the monitor for most of that night, terrified that he would stop breathing and I wouldn't hear it.

     And so went our first few months as mommy and baby. Archer has never been a good sleeper but in his own crib, his sleep was practically nonexistent. We were up six to eight times per night in the early days and that was when feeding him and getting him back to sleep took forever. Back in the days when I was still recording feeding lengths on an app on my phone. New mom stuff... Am I right? Most of those nights are a blur in my memory of feeding, bouncing and walking Archer until he fell asleep, only to gingerly place him in his crib for him to wake up again ten minutes later.

     As a nursing mom, this was tough. Jim offered to help, but honestly, unless he had devised some sort of hose invention that could attach to both a baby and a boob, we were out of luck and I saw no reason for us both to be awake. So it was just me and my little guy, working the late shift together every night.

     Through it all, my fears continued. What if he cried and I didn't hear him, what if he got kidnapped during the night or every mother's worst fear, SIDS? I felt restless with worry during the brief and shining moments when he wasn't awake, so sleep still eluded me, even then.

     Something had to give but I didn't know what. Our room was too small to room share or to even get one of those cool off the bedside bassinets, so our options were to either have Archer in the bed in our room with us, or off in a crib in his nursery. At the time he just seemed too little to me to have in bed with us. I was terrified that one of us would roll over on him. I just couldn't bring myself to try co-sleeping. Eventually however, out of sheer exhaustion my walls began to crack. As with so many wars since the dawn of time, it began with an early morning surrender. Jim got out of bed for work everyday at 6:30, so after this feeding I began putting Archer in bed with me and we would finally get some much needed, glorious sleep. With my little lovie asleep next to me, I could finally relax and drift into actual sleep. It felt amazing.

     When Archer was almost three months old, we attended a family wedding in New Jersey. It was Archer's first trip and the sleep situation weighed heavily on my mind. We decided to take his Pack N Play with us so that he could sleep in it in the hotel room. Our bed there was huge. While my husband, who was best man in the wedding attended the rehearsal and a dinner following, my little buddy and I settled in for the night to relax.

     It was just me and my baby, away from home for the first time. It felt exciting yet slightly uncomfortable. Something about us being alone and out of our usual element made me feel slightly vulnerable. As is so often the case, nursing brought me as much comfort as I think it did Archer. It felt familiar and safe. As we lay there waiting for my husband to get back to the room, we practiced our newest skill of laying down while nursing and for the first time ever, this technique went beautifully culminating in my little lovie falling sound asleep on the large, king sized bed.

     I cuddled up with him and felt my entire body relax. For the first time, we co-slept for an entire night and it was the best night's sleep I had had since his birth.

     So that was it. I had a taste of co-sleeping and I liked it. A lot. I could finally relax, listening to his breath while I was sleeping and for the first time in months I was not anxious as night approached. Sleeping next to me, Archer didn't even need to cry to let me know that he was hungry. In fact, we both barely had to wake up at all for him to eat. Usually, we both fall back asleep mid meal, in fact.

     It was the first time that I woke up feeling well rested in the morning since he was born and ever since I have been unable to bring myself to banish Archer back to his crib. The thought has crossed my mind... Usually when I see the disapproving glances of other mothers or come across one of the absolutely gut-wrenching stories of when co sleeping goes wrong. I do know the safety concerns and as a result, I have been careful to follow the rules suggested for making co-sleeping as safe for Archer as possible.

     It has been suggested to me that maybe co-sleeping is more comforting to me than it is necessary for him. Maybe so, but Archer seems to be a pretty big fan of our set-up too. I think all men prefer sleeping close to their favorite food. I love when he opens his eyes, then sees me there, gives a little smile and drifts back off to sleep. I love when I feel his little arm in the dark reach for me to be sure that I'm still there, or feel him grab my shoulder, asking for a midnight snack. I think back to the years and tears that I spent waiting for him to get here, thinking the day would never come when I would hold him in my arms. I kiss his little head all night, just thanking God that he is here.

     I know the day will come soon enough when I will be up at night worrying because he is out driving around with his friends and I cherish this time when he is little. When he wants nothing more than to be curled up with his mama. I have suffered from frequent nightmares most of my life.  Now, they are primarily related to the scenes that are described to me at work on a daily basis. Nothing feels better than waking up from a brutal nightmare to curl up in my husband's strong arms. Nothing makes me feel safer. I love the idea that when Archer has a nightmare, he won't wake up in a dark room alone. He will wake up with his mom on one side and his father on the other, ready and willing for comfort and cuddle him.

     I plan to make a big deal of making him a big boy room with a big boy bed when the time is right, but I don't see me forcing him out of my room. I'm sure he will fly out of the nest on his own before he is a teenager. I have no worries there.

     Co-sleeping is definitely not right for everyone and that is okay. But it is the stuff of very sweet dreams for my little family.