The Sophie. 
I love my bed.
It has seen its fair share of action, from a house in Nashville to two lofts and a condo in Chicago. It has been dragged through the grimy streets of Fulton Market, crammed into an elevator on Jackson and hauled up two flights of stairs in River West. It has been nestled against a wall in a little cave in a loft when Alex and I first met.
On our first real date, we went out to dinner and came back to my place. It had snowed five feet and everything was icy and white. Since it was getting late and I had to get up at 4:50a.m. to be at work, I told him I needed to go to bed.
“Okay,” he said, and proceeded to take off his jacket.
“You’re… staying?” I asked, perplexed and suddenly terrified. What kind of girl did he think I was? “Like sleeping here?” On our first date?!! I wanted to add. I had a nighttime ritual – washing my face, brushing my teeth, taking out my contacts, examining my skin, wearing crappy pajamas… He couldn’t possibly see all of that on our first night.
“Yeah,” he answered, as if we’d been doing this forever. Maybe it was the snow that kept him there, maybe it wasn’t, but when we crawled back into my little cave (both fully dressed) and he tucked in beside the wall, I lay there, playing horror movies in my head. As I searched the darkness for a sharp object, he gingerly gripped my hand and pulled it to his chest.
“Goodnight, Rea,” he said.
He didn’t move the whole night, keeping my hand clasped tightly in his own. The next morning, as I poured him a big cup of coffee in a to-go container, he said it was the best sleep he’d ever had. As I kissed him goodbye, I knew I never wanted him to leave. Instead, I said, “It’s the Tempur-Pedic. It’s magic, that thing.”
And it is.
Unfortunately, Sophie has experienced the Tempur, in all its body-hugging, foamy, warm glory. We have been co-sleeping with her since the early days.
Until now… sort of.
I flip on the light in my bedroom. I pull back the fresh sheets and slide under the covers. I put my glasses on and slip a book into my hands. I begin reading. Alex comes in and scoots in beside me. We immediately begin playing, hiding under the covers and entangling arms and legs.
It has been almost eight months since we’ve had a light on in our bedroom at night; almost eight months since we’ve laid side by side, with books in hand. Our bed is not our bed – it is home to Neruda and Sophie, but tonight, Sophie is asleep on her crib mattress which we have moved to the floor of her room, so I can go in and lay with her and feed her when I need to.
This bliss only lasts for a couple of hours before I grab her warm body and pull her into our bed, where we all sleep soundly until she stirs near morning time, emitting a soft cry before finding the source of her food.
Many people are baffled by our decision to co-sleep. “Won’t you roll over on her? Won’t you lose intimacy? Isn’t that unhealthy? Won’t the baby become dependent?”
To which I shrug and say, “It just feels right.” I don’t mention that she began sleeping through the night at about a month old (with the occasionally intermittent feeding). I don’t mention that she is safer and sleeps harder knowing she’s protected by her parents and that she’s not all alone, with crib rails surrounding her. She doesn’t have to cry to be fed or go back to sleep. Of course, I don’t mention that I desperately miss the warmth of my husband’s body, even more than I love my little girl’s. I don’t mention that I miss reading before bed – that it is the way that I unwind – and that I would love not to sleep with my shirt hiked up around my chin.
I don’t mention these things because they are irrelevant in the face of so many other things. Is it true that I used to watch movies where families literally shared their bed and cringed? Sure. Do I sometimes fear she will be six years old, still trying to climb into our bed? Of course.
But something else overrides all this, and it’s not just my refusal to let her cry it out (a technique that has never made sense to me, especially when a child is too young to reason with or explain things to).
It’s that her being a baby is almost over, and I will never regret the time she spends in my arms, curled into my side, upside down, on all fours, or under the covers. I will never regret recalling how her little hand strokes my arm while she’s feeding, as if to comfort me instead of the other way around. I will never regret waking up to see her smiling and giggling right next to me, knowing she is safe and sound. I will never regret waking up to see her spooning Alex, the two of them pressed limb to limb.
I will never regret that she gets to spend at least eight hours next to me. I will never regret rubbing her little hands or back or legs, putting her into a deep sleep from touch alone.
I will always remember these things and cling tightly to them later in life, when she doens’t need me, when she’d rather be in her room alone, when my mere presence will make her roll her eyes and she’ll pull away when I try to hug her.
My little girl is only little for so long, and as her independence grows daily, I feel small pieces of me growing with her.
Yes, I am learning to let go bit by bit, trying slowly to transition her out of our bed and into her own little Montessori room…
But if she needs me, I am there, because it’s my job to love her, to cuddle her, to hold her, to feed her, to make her know she is safe.
I can blame it on the power of the Tempur-Pedic (as compared to her bricklike crib mattress) or I can simply say that one day, about three weeks in, I pulled her into our bed and she slept the whole night through. So what if our bed has become a family bed?
It won’t be that way forever. It feels right.
And so, for now, I give in.
Months ago, in our family bed.
I think co-sleeping is one of the most amazing experiences EVER especially if you’re a breast-feeding mom. It’s kind of mandatory. You sleep with that baby forever if you like. Follow your instincts!
Hi, Teri. I totally agree. Breastfeeding a child in another room doesn’t make sense to me – maybe I’m just too lazy to get up!!
Thanks for the support.
That is hilarious about your husband (on your first date). I bet you were terrified.
Good thing it worked out so well. I know co-sleeping is a tough issue. WE struggle with it too especially with sleep training. What do you think about those methods? It’s all so overwhelming.
I was definitely terrified, but it’s a great memory. I’m not big into sleep training (though I’ve read about most methods). As long as she’s sleeping and happy, I think we’re fine. She naturally takes two naps per day around the same time and is sleeping longer and longer by herself at night. So, we will do it graduay, I suppose! Just do what feels right to you. When I think of all the mothers around the world who’ve never read about sleep training, I know we’ll survive.
I don’t want a book to tell me what to do – I just want to trust my gut.
Both of our kids slept in our bed until they were about two which seems crazy to a lot of people, but it made our lives easier in many regards. Yes you lose the nighttime intimacy, but it’s fun to find it elsewhere. Brava!
I don’t think that’s crazy at all and I completely agree about finding intimacy elsewhere – that’s what we were just discussing! Thanks for sharing.
LOVELOVELOVE. That picture is adorable – you should wear glasses more often. You’re right – you will never regret the time you get to spend with her, all snuggled up. I can’t wait to do that myself with my baby.
Thanks, Rebecca! I hope you find it joyful and easy. I know co-sleeping isn’t for everyone, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
I forgot to tell you how much I miss getting into bed and reading a book before falling asleep… especially when it’s minus 28 C out!
You’ve put it all very nicely, really hits home. I hang on to my baby’s babyhood too. I love going to bed at night and hearing her breath soundly, then I know the sleep I get will be peaceful and restful
Yes! Reading before bed has been part of my routine for as long as I can remember! Paloma has the best set-up ever – you guys are my role models!
oh thank you
We just went for what was cheap and practical and it turned out well for us.
Oh and I love the story of your first date with Alex!
And I also love how you describe your breastfeeding sessions, it’s so spot on. I think the same thing when she is stroking my boob, my arm, my face, it’s like she’s telling me that everything is ok. I just forget it as soon as the moment as gone. Thanks for writing it down xxx
Thanks – it’s a funny first date story. I literally thought he was trying to take advantage of me.
It’s so easy to forget all of these precious moments. I feel like I don’t write enough of them down, but I want to be able to remember!
Perfectly stated! The part about her little hand comforting you while nursing is spot on. A does the same and I just adore it.
This time is such a blip, I’m so glad to be able to “be one” with the baby while we can!
This time IS such a blip – glad we get to be on each other’s radar and watch our little ones grow together!
Very sweet story! My daughter slept with me till she was 2 and a half. Then she decided that she wanted to sleep in her own bed. She told me she was a big girl and needed to sleep in her room.
I almost couldn’t sleep the first few nights without her beside me, but I am proud of her for making the transition on her own. She’s 4 now and still in her own bed. I will always cherish her sleeping beside me!
I LOVE this, Amy – thanks for sharing. It just makes sense to me to allow her to transition when she’s ready. Even when she’s napping in her room, I feel panicked not having her beside me. I’m sure it will be a long time before she’s fully in her bed, and I’m going to cherish every moment. Your daughter sounds adorable.
A lovely account! Thank you for framing The Family Bed so sweetly. I never thought I’d co-sleep as long as I have until I had a baby. I don’t regret our decision one single moment or one single night and I cannot imagine it any other way. In fact, I don’t think I’d sleep any other way. Absolutely savor all of these moments before our babies slip away and beyond childhood!
Thanks for such a lovely comment, Katie. How long did you co-sleep? It just seems so natural to me for so many reasons… I will savor every moment I can! Thanks for the encouragement.
I love this.
I am reading about some psycho-neurological findings related to affectionate connectedness (hugging, snuggling, kissing). These expressions of affection and caring between two humans seem to be correlated with the growth of certain areas of the brain and with release of neurotransmitters that correlate with a sense of calm, compassion, generosity and empathy…. I imagine that what you are doing isn’t just warm and cuddly, but also wonderfully supportive of growing neuropathways that lead to virtuous warm connected prosocial characteristics! (This is just the physical evidence of what we have observed over and over again, that good-enough mothers (NOT PERFECT) mothers and fathers who are warm, supportive, listening, loving yet firm, and demanding AND have their own interests usually help shape warm, connected, supportive, empathic loving independent adult children.)
Frankie slept with us from birth until he was almost 5 months old. Then we sleep trained. It went fine. He slept independently for almost 18 months. However, after a series of severe illnesses that began when he was two that resulted in multiple ER visists, multiple P-ICU stays and surgeries, he began sleeping with us again. He does now sleep in his own bed…… BUT only after both kids (7 and 3 years old) fall asleep in OUR bed. They LOVE it. They see it as a treat even though its been going on for a while– saying, “I love Mommy and Daddy’s bed.” Maybe it’s bc we have an incredible mattress. Maybe its our wonderful fluffy quilt. But I think its bc we are there, snuggling them, softly answering any questions they have, firmly saying, “Its time to sleep. No more questions or stories. Save it for the morning.” WE are providing what they ask to feel warm and protected. We move them into their own beds after they fall asleep. Around 4:30 am every morning Frankie wakes up and climbs in our bed and says, “Snuggle-sleep?” and we softly answer, “Yes, Sweetie, snuggle-sleep.” Julien, our 3 year old, does not wake up at 4:30. He sleeps through the night. and wakes up at 6:30 every day READY to go.
My wonderful insightful mom, who raised 8 very different children said, “They will WANT to sleep in their own beds, be left alone, push away, soon enough. Take it in. It lasts a very very brief while. ”
When I offer concerns about independence my mom says, “Do you know of any 17 year old boys cuddling their mom or dad to sleep? He’ll ask to be left alone on his own or circumstance — like sleep overs, camp, reaching puberty– will demand he learn to sleep on his own and he will.”
I wholeheartedly agree.
Being a therapist, however, I did know of one such family where the adult-ish boys still slept with their mom. But the lack of independence wasn’t bc of the family bed. It was a million other complex intertwined issues being symbolized in the family bed. Almost all my friends and family members who have “trained” their kids to sleep on their own, still hear the soft foot steps of their 8 year old approaching the bed at 4:30 am asking for snuggles. I am guessing most of those 8 year olds will all become who they naturally and some version of independent differentiating adults, despite (or maybe even bc of) the 3 hours of snuggling in their parents’ bed.
Yes, I am opinionated about this….
Um, WHY don’t you have a blog/site/book… or two or ten thousand? You are SO insightful on every level when it comes to parenting, the psyche, etc. I completely agree. They will push away soon enough – and yes, there are definitely exceptions to this “inevitability” – but I am trying to drink it in while I still can. We will find our way…
Thank you, as always, for responding so honestly and thoughtfully. It’s such a breath of fresh air. What was wrong with Frankie, if you don’t mind me asking?
Have a great day!