Transition

She sits on the floor of his dark room, legs crossed and motionless.  She doesn't want to make a sound.  The floor didn't used to make noise.  It was new when he arrived.  Three years later, it’s been tip-toed, crawled, rolled, wrestled, stomped, and fallen upon.  His Strider bike glides across it almost daily.  The Tonka truck and wagon bear heavy loads of Legos, books, and stuffed friends almost constantly.  Yes, it was once a quiet place to walk, but not any longer.  

She knows that even a small movement will be enough to rouse him.  His left foot is dangling off the side of the bed.  She’s torn.  She wants to grab him and snuggle him close.  Take him back to the bedroom with her.  But she needs real sleep.  She misses snuggling close to her husband.  

She wonders if this will make tomorrow challenging.  He’s always happiest when he’s most secure.  That’s true of most of us.   Will he remember how hard he cried and stared at her with confusion, his heart a little more broken than just minutes before? Will he remember that he put his hands up and out, as if to say, "What am I supposed to do, Mama?" She will.

Moments of Validation

Parents--and especially mothers, I think--experience many moments of doubt.  Some days, the feelings of uncertainty flow freely and can leave a person questioning their every decision, whether small or large.  Did you feed her enough vegetables?  Is co-sleeping going to make him a sociopath?  We all struggle with feelings of doubt at various times throughout our lives, but at no other time does it affect us with such intensity as in parenthood.  When these moments arise, confidence plummets.  Every truth is carefully examined for any falsehood.  But do yourself and your precious child a favor--do not give up and do not change.  You are doing everything right.  And if you give yourself just a little more time, your child will provide the validation you need.

This evening, I nursed L until he was finished.  Usually, he falls asleep and I place him in his crib, where he sleeps for a few hours if I'm lucky.  Tonight, however, he was softly giggling at me as I held him.  As even people without children could deduce, that isn't a great sign at bedtime.  I decided to gently put him down and stay close, hoping that he would fall asleep.  He became very upset but stopped crying and fussing within one or two minutes.  He struggled to get comfortable--tossing and turning and flouncing in every corner of his crib.  For five minutes, I sat beside his bed, feeling sorry for him because I have felt the same way.  Suddenly, he sat up.  He reached for the little white button on the music player attached to his crib and on came the music.  A feeling of frustration poured over me because I thought he was in play-mode.  But the frustration was quickly chased away with pride and a much-needed moment of validation when I saw that he laid himself back down, settled and fell asleep.

You see, it hasn't been an easy couple of weeks for this Mom.  More than 15 months of sleepless nights start to catch up with you at a certain point and I have not only reached that point, but also exceeded it.  For the last couple of days, I have wondered if my "attachment parenting" has been the wrong way for us.  Did I screw him up by meeting his needs too well?  Will he ever be able to sleep without my help?  Will I ever sleep again?  The truth is, I know the answers to these questions, otherwise, I wouldn't have made the decisions that I've made thus far.  But as I said, feelings of doubt will make you question everything.  

My little guy often validates my parenting choices, which is especially meaningful to me when I hear so many negative comments about the path we've chosen.  Mostly, the critiques involve a belief that a child must become independent (and quickly) and the best way to teach them that is to wean them from the breast at an early age and "sleep-train" them.  A child who is allowed to nurse on demand and who is placed close to their parents in a carrier will never be able to form a healthy independence.  And a child who isn't "sleep-trained" and who is nursed to sleep will never learn to fall asleep on his own, or so say the critics.  But thanks to L and his perfect wisdom, I can stop examining my choices (until next time!) and continue feeling secure that we have done it right because we did what has worked for us.  And every time I see him climb the sliding board without even a glance in my direction, every time he runs into another room and plays safely for several minutes without wondering where I am, every time he falls and gets back up without my help, and now every time he puts himself to sleep--I will know that what I am doing is working.

And that is all a parent wants to know.

No, My Son Doesn't Sleep Through the Night--and I Still Love Him

Today, a well-meaning friend asked me a question about my 11 month old.  It is the same question that every parent is asked—and asked thousands of times by every relative, friend and nosy stranger at the grocery store. 

“Does he sleep through the night?”

I felt a bit of tension growing inside of me because I know all too well what my answer will mean to this person, because it means the same thing to most people.  In our culture, whether or not your child sleeps through the night at any age is somehow the one true indicator of whether you have a good or bad child.  Or, (gasp) whether you are a good or bad parent. 

So I, being a strong and honest woman, prepare to answer confidently.  Maybe this friend will understand. Maybe this friend will not offer advice for which I never asked, forcing me to be kind and pretend to be grateful even though I feel frustration and annoyance.  (For the record, acting kind and pretending to be grateful is difficult when you haven’t slept in over a year, but it can be done.)

No, my son does not sleep through the night.  In the 341 days of his life, he has slept entirely through the night 3 times.  For several weeks at one point, he consistently slept at least 6 hours before waking up.  Today, however, we are fortunate if he sleeps for one three-hour block each night.  Beyond that, he wakes every 60-90 minutes.  And of course, that means that I do, too. 

My friend was appalled.  She informed me that her children never did that.  And she wanted to make sure that I was no longer nursing him at night. 

Oh, but I do.  And I accept that responsibility.  It is not easy—sometimes it’s just plain overwhelming.  But it’s my decision to make, and I make decisions based on my instincts and what is best for my child.  I might not always be right but I guarantee that I am right more often than I am wrong.  Try me.

For me, my son and our entire family, what is working for us is for me to meet my son’s immediate needs.  If he’s hungry, I feed him.  If he cries because he’s lonely or scared, I comfort him.  I even rock and nurse him to sleep.  Feel free to explain to me that a boy his age doesn’t need to eat at night, or that I’m spoiling him or that I’m just continuing bad habits.  And then allow me to explain something to you.

July 30, 2011

I am not a little girl.  I am an intelligent woman who gave birth to a human being (and naturally, may I add).  He and I bonded before he ever took his first breath.  I am doing what I feel is best for him and for his well-being because that was my part of the agreement when I decided I wanted to be a Mother.  Nursing him gives him more than just milk.  It gives him comfort.  It gives him security.  It further strengthens our bond.  When I nurse him, I send his body positive energy and put well wishes into his world so that when he grows to be bigger and stronger than me, he will have happiness from within and a positive outlook on life.  When I nurse him, he isn’t thinking about how spoiled I am making him.  He’s thinking about how good it feels to have someone on which he can depend when he’s having a rough time.  He’s learning about trust and love and safety. 

In fact, just tonight when I was nursing him to sleep, I looked down at his sweet little body nestled into mine and saw true peace.  At one point, he let out a soft sigh, as if all was right in his world.  And I thought in that moment, “Shouldn’t we all feel this way, even just sometimes,” and I held him even closer.  What could be so wrong with that?

So no, my little guy doesn’t sleep through the night.  And he’s the best little guy I’ve ever known.