When I woke up this morning there was a little arm and little leg wrapped around me. Every now and then Lael creeps into my bedroom and slides under the covers. I don’t mind so much now as I did back when she was younger.
There’s a guy I work with who has a 6 month old son and we had an office discussion about the right time to move your baby to their own room.
Ok. So I thought he was arguing that his wife wanted the baby to stay in their room and he wanted him out. It was the other way around. It was him that could not sleep unless his “boy” was right there next to them in his pack ‘n play.
I joined in on the discussion and explained to him what happened to me.
Lael came home from the hospital and I had her a Mozart playing, nightlight attached, vibrating bassinet. It was awesome. The problem? She could stand the damn thing. I would lay her on her back, swaddle her, prop her on her side. Nothing. She would only sleep right under my armpit. I admit it became easier to breastfeed that way but eventually she stopped breastfeeding.
When she was about 3 months I tried to move her to her crib. You know in the room that I painted, bordered, hung shit and overall made it the best looking room in the house. Nothing. She wasn’t having it. I couldn’t even get her to nap in the crib.
She turned 1. Still sleeping with us. She turned 2. Still slept with us. She turned 3 and my husband stopped sleeping in the bed because it drove him insane.
I bought her a toddler bed and put it on my side of the bed hoping to get her to sleep in her pretty pink Dora bed and eventually move her to her newly decorated room. You know? The one she NEVER slept in. Nothing.
So it began right before her 4th birthday. I had finally gotten fed up. By this time I gave away the toddler bed and bought her a twin bed and redecorated our third bedroom. Dora comforter, Dora border, Nightlight, the works. Nothing.
But this time I wasn’t giving in to her. I spent a week. I mean a whole 7 days breaking her free from my bed. It was torture. I had to get up every hour to walk her back to her bed. By the second day she would stay in her bed but scream for me. Not the ahhhhh type of scream, but the whatthefuckareyoudoingtome type of scream.
It hurt me so bad. I knew it was my fault because I should have done it earlier. She would scream and cry “ I just want you mommy!” and I would sit outside her bedroom door crying. It pained me to put her through this.
But eventually it was over. She slept. By the second week she would go through changes to keep me in her room longer during story time but in the end she would stay in her room all night.
Even now as she will be turning 6 soon she still has relapses. When she gets sick and I let her sleep with me for a day or two she will start waking up every night coming into my room and I have to fuss at her all over again.
So this morning wasn’t just me waking up with my baby in my bed. But instead the end of a battle that I know I will win in the end.
That is until I have my next child. *Sigh*