My, how things change!
When our son Adler was born, it was relatively easy to stick to my pre-conceived notions regarding the seemingly negative outcome that would result from co-sleeping. Besides, we were practically inseparable during the first 8 months of his life. Being an only child definitely has it's perks! He was held constantly not due to crying a lot, but because we just couldn't get enough interaction with him. When it was time to get things done around the house, I'd wear him on a sling, cuddled close to my chest, his forehead easily kissable by just barely leaning my neck down. We'd lounge on the couch together. He'd do a great deal of tummy time laying on me or Dad's chest. For the first six weeks or so, he slept in a bassinet in our room. After that, our bedtime routine was very consistent: A bath, a bottle, then I'd rock him to sleep in his nursery before laying him in his crib where for the most part, he slept through the night. And I can't kid my readers: I had full-blown new-mommy-itis, and it caused me to do ridiculous things like tiptoe into his nursery at night just to watch him sleep, because doggone it, I missed the little guy! However, Dad and I continued to enjoy the privacy and abundant real estate of our huge bed, something we'd later covet at times.
Having been pregnant with twins just six weeks after giving birth to our son, I knew there would come a time towards the end of my last trimester that I'd be uncomfortable, bed-ridden, and unable to lift my son all the time. Unfortunately, it started right at about the 27-week mark. My feet, ankles and calves were HUGE. My belly was swollen and massive, and I had absolutely no energy whatsoever. As my condition worsened, my son's behavior was showing marked changes, and for the first time in his short life, he was thrust into a new stage of independence. This wasn't an easy transition for any of us, but it really became difficult when he no longer slept through the night. We'd take turns trying to get him back to sleep, but it usually made for very long nights, followed by an uncharacteristic fussiness the next day. It got worse as my due date approached, and several weeks of premature labor sent us running to the hospital at weird hours, completely disrupting our usual routines.
Adler had never spent the night away from home until the night the girls arrived. He was in perfectly capable, loving hands with his big brother Sean and his wife Sarah, but having been abruptly whisked off to their house right before bedtime when my water broke was equally as miserable for us as it was for him. I remember crying all the way to the hospital, and it wasn't due to labor pain. A C-section landed me a four-day hospital stay, and although our son returned home with Dad, the weeks that followed after my homecoming also proved to be erratic. My recovery was very painful and slow, coupled with using a breast pump every two hours and trekking back up to the hospital for the next 17 days to see the girls in NICU. Adler's schedule had been changed, his routines had been modified, and the poor little guy had no idea how much his world truly was going to be rocked once we brought the twins home. It was during the NICU interim that we began letting him sleep with us. I felt that he needed the extra time with Mommy, as he couldn't possibly understand why I was unable to pick him up and hold him during my recovery.
Although we didn't mind having him sleep with us, we had mutually agreed that we'd somehow transition him back to his crib once things got back to normal. Clearly, we failed to grasp that with three babies in the house, "normal" was going to be completely redefined for us. He was sleeping better, we were sleeping better, and to be completely honest - my husband and I both enjoyed having him so close to us. We were already feeling pensive and a little guilty for how we expected him to react to the girls, even though we followed the suggestions of *experts* and tried to introduce him to the idea by taking him up to the hospital to see them, showing him their nursery, and working the word "sister(s)" into his very limited 10-mo old comprehensive vocabulary.
Everything changed once the girls got home. Sophia was on an apnea monitor, and the cords and wires were very cumbersome to tote around. Feedings were every two hours, around the clock. Everything we'd (recently) experienced with handling a newborn had pretty much escaped us. There were TWO newborns to change, feed, burp, rock and put to sleep. Whole other ballgame. In addition, we were sure to give Adler more than adequate attention so he wouldn't feel left out. He hardly paid them any mind at all - he had started walking steadily on his own and could really care less about the two squirmy little sisters who were so needy and loud. He was happy to sleep with us, and since we weren't sleeping anyway, we weren't about to rock our boat any further by potentially adding another crying baby into our graveyard shift. I began the whole "sleep when they sleep" routine, and somehow managed to get his naptime aligned with their extended nap during the day between feedings. It was easier for us to nap together, and my son really enjoyed the one-on-one time with mom without the sisters in the same room.
As luck would have it, I was diagnosed with a superficial cervical cancer four months after the twins were born. After a full hysterectomy, I was faced with another 6-8 week bout of recovery time. You can't begin to imagine how absolutely off-kilter our schedules became after that. It took a long time to get something resembling a solid routine put into place, and our only saving grace was that miraculously, Sophia and Samantha were excellent sleepers who barely made a peep through the night once they no longer required nighttime feedings. To this day, they still share a crib and sleep soundly throughout the night. With twins, I don't worry about them waking up and feeling scared or lonely. They have each other to cuddle with. Even when they wake in the mornings, they usually spend time babbling and playing with one another without a care in the world as to what the rest of the household is up and doing.
As of this writing, we have an 18-mo old and two 10-month olds. The sleeping arrangements with our son was never transitioned back to his crib. In fact, we got rid of the crib and upon Dad's gleeful insistence, bought him a sleek black racecar bed for his room. Suffice it to say, we've used that racecar bed more times than my son has even sat upon it. You get it. Co-sleeping with our son might have been initiated out of necessity, but we've found the valuable benefits that we once read about actually coming to fruition. He's very well-adjusted and happy. We're very well-adjusted and happy. As an added bonus, we've learned that there is a lot of excitement to be had by sneaking off to make love in a plastic racecar bed when the kids are asleep. I often wonder if my husband had secretly harbored a *get-freaky-in-a-racecar* fetish prior to making the purchase under the cover of "he'll be a toddler who needs a cool bed" when he talked me into disassembling his nursery.
I can honestly report that the only drawbacks to co-sleeping with us is that due to the fact that our son is quite big and tall for his age, you can almost always count on there being a foot, elbow, or a head full of curls in your face, ribs or stomach at any given hour. Nothing, and I mean nothing - can compare to having him roll over and hug us in his sleep, or the excitement he exhibits when we get ready for bed at night. To him, this continued privilege helps him remember that there's plenty of time and love to go around, and his special time to play with and love on his parents without any interruptions gives him something to look forward to at the end of our sometimes hectic days. He has been patient with the extra workload I took on with the girls, and is even starting to become more fascinated with them, as is evident by the glee he gets from putting objects on their heads from time to time, or squatting in front of their bouncy seats dangling the sock money that he'll never, ever allow them to play with.
I don't believe we're setting him up for a lifetime of co-dependency, either. He is a very independent, headstrong little fellow who enjoys his space. He's not clingy to the point of it being annoying, except for the typical almost-two-year-old leg-grabbing shenanigans when I'm attempting to step over a child gate with a baby in one arm and a laundry basket in another. I don't anticipate having a sleeping child in my bed for the next decade. I'm certain that he will be back sleeping in his room probably over the course of this next year, and I'm also quite confident that the transition will be easier for him than it will be for us. We don't see any reason to ever co-sleep with the girls, as they are quite cozy with one another, and we aren't inclined to fix things that aren't broken around here.
Certain people have asked me if having an extra occupant in bed with us has affected the intimacy of our marriage. I ask them to stroll down memory lane and remember the fevered excitement they may have experienced in their younger years when sneaking off with their lover to get their spontaneous groove on in unusual places ... and that is usually all the explanation they need. What can I say? We might be over-40 parents, but we're still adventure junkies.
Adler had never spent the night away from home until the night the girls arrived. He was in perfectly capable, loving hands with his big brother Sean and his wife Sarah, but having been abruptly whisked off to their house right before bedtime when my water broke was equally as miserable for us as it was for him. I remember crying all the way to the hospital, and it wasn't due to labor pain. A C-section landed me a four-day hospital stay, and although our son returned home with Dad, the weeks that followed after my homecoming also proved to be erratic. My recovery was very painful and slow, coupled with using a breast pump every two hours and trekking back up to the hospital for the next 17 days to see the girls in NICU. Adler's schedule had been changed, his routines had been modified, and the poor little guy had no idea how much his world truly was going to be rocked once we brought the twins home. It was during the NICU interim that we began letting him sleep with us. I felt that he needed the extra time with Mommy, as he couldn't possibly understand why I was unable to pick him up and hold him during my recovery.
Although we didn't mind having him sleep with us, we had mutually agreed that we'd somehow transition him back to his crib once things got back to normal. Clearly, we failed to grasp that with three babies in the house, "normal" was going to be completely redefined for us. He was sleeping better, we were sleeping better, and to be completely honest - my husband and I both enjoyed having him so close to us. We were already feeling pensive and a little guilty for how we expected him to react to the girls, even though we followed the suggestions of *experts* and tried to introduce him to the idea by taking him up to the hospital to see them, showing him their nursery, and working the word "sister(s)" into his very limited 10-mo old comprehensive vocabulary.
Everything changed once the girls got home. Sophia was on an apnea monitor, and the cords and wires were very cumbersome to tote around. Feedings were every two hours, around the clock. Everything we'd (recently) experienced with handling a newborn had pretty much escaped us. There were TWO newborns to change, feed, burp, rock and put to sleep. Whole other ballgame. In addition, we were sure to give Adler more than adequate attention so he wouldn't feel left out. He hardly paid them any mind at all - he had started walking steadily on his own and could really care less about the two squirmy little sisters who were so needy and loud. He was happy to sleep with us, and since we weren't sleeping anyway, we weren't about to rock our boat any further by potentially adding another crying baby into our graveyard shift. I began the whole "sleep when they sleep" routine, and somehow managed to get his naptime aligned with their extended nap during the day between feedings. It was easier for us to nap together, and my son really enjoyed the one-on-one time with mom without the sisters in the same room.
As luck would have it, I was diagnosed with a superficial cervical cancer four months after the twins were born. After a full hysterectomy, I was faced with another 6-8 week bout of recovery time. You can't begin to imagine how absolutely off-kilter our schedules became after that. It took a long time to get something resembling a solid routine put into place, and our only saving grace was that miraculously, Sophia and Samantha were excellent sleepers who barely made a peep through the night once they no longer required nighttime feedings. To this day, they still share a crib and sleep soundly throughout the night. With twins, I don't worry about them waking up and feeling scared or lonely. They have each other to cuddle with. Even when they wake in the mornings, they usually spend time babbling and playing with one another without a care in the world as to what the rest of the household is up and doing.
As of this writing, we have an 18-mo old and two 10-month olds. The sleeping arrangements with our son was never transitioned back to his crib. In fact, we got rid of the crib and upon Dad's gleeful insistence, bought him a sleek black racecar bed for his room. Suffice it to say, we've used that racecar bed more times than my son has even sat upon it. You get it. Co-sleeping with our son might have been initiated out of necessity, but we've found the valuable benefits that we once read about actually coming to fruition. He's very well-adjusted and happy. We're very well-adjusted and happy. As an added bonus, we've learned that there is a lot of excitement to be had by sneaking off to make love in a plastic racecar bed when the kids are asleep. I often wonder if my husband had secretly harbored a *get-freaky-in-a-racecar* fetish prior to making the purchase under the cover of "he'll be a toddler who needs a cool bed" when he talked me into disassembling his nursery.
I can honestly report that the only drawbacks to co-sleeping with us is that due to the fact that our son is quite big and tall for his age, you can almost always count on there being a foot, elbow, or a head full of curls in your face, ribs or stomach at any given hour. Nothing, and I mean nothing - can compare to having him roll over and hug us in his sleep, or the excitement he exhibits when we get ready for bed at night. To him, this continued privilege helps him remember that there's plenty of time and love to go around, and his special time to play with and love on his parents without any interruptions gives him something to look forward to at the end of our sometimes hectic days. He has been patient with the extra workload I took on with the girls, and is even starting to become more fascinated with them, as is evident by the glee he gets from putting objects on their heads from time to time, or squatting in front of their bouncy seats dangling the sock money that he'll never, ever allow them to play with.
I don't believe we're setting him up for a lifetime of co-dependency, either. He is a very independent, headstrong little fellow who enjoys his space. He's not clingy to the point of it being annoying, except for the typical almost-two-year-old leg-grabbing shenanigans when I'm attempting to step over a child gate with a baby in one arm and a laundry basket in another. I don't anticipate having a sleeping child in my bed for the next decade. I'm certain that he will be back sleeping in his room probably over the course of this next year, and I'm also quite confident that the transition will be easier for him than it will be for us. We don't see any reason to ever co-sleep with the girls, as they are quite cozy with one another, and we aren't inclined to fix things that aren't broken around here.
Certain people have asked me if having an extra occupant in bed with us has affected the intimacy of our marriage. I ask them to stroll down memory lane and remember the fevered excitement they may have experienced in their younger years when sneaking off with their lover to get their spontaneous groove on in unusual places ... and that is usually all the explanation they need. What can I say? We might be over-40 parents, but we're still adventure junkies.
No comments:
Post a Comment