WHERE DID YOU GO IN YOUR DREAMS
I know I’ve been avoiding this reality for a while now, and so much of the reason for the delay is due to my own selfishness. I’m not ready to not room-share with Lou. We’ve been dedicated when it comes to helping her develop strong sleep habits by never co-sleeping. Plus the fear of SIDS is real. I never fully trusted myself to co-sleep; in the beginning we were in such uncharted territory of exhaustion that I didn’t want to risk confusing my newborn for a rogue pillow and (it still scares me just to think about) push her away unknowingly, bahhhh scary. Ever since she’s been outside of me, Lou has always slept right beside me. And let me tell you something, I’ve loved every night baby girl.
From that precious first one in the hospital, that I spent ignoring the advice of the nurses telling me to “sleep when baby sleeps” and I just stared at you, to every night after. It broke my heart when you outgrew your bassinet, and I made all the excuses in the world as to why we should set up the pack-n-play to keep you beside us still. I’m still using them…She’s an arms reach away to pop back in a pacifier, I don’t even have to open my eyes. I know each fussy sound she makes, when to pick her up and when to let her fall back asleep. She always goes straight through the night with minimal disturbances, and wakes up a happy baby in the morning. Sometimes in the mornings, I scoop Lou up and bring her in bed with me to babble for a while, and it instantly erases any sense of exhaustion.
She’s always been a dream baby when it comes to sleeping through the night (see Sorry My Baby Sleeps post). After our bedtime routine, I rock her in my arms and sing La La Lu. I always kiss her head, tell her I love her, and to “dream of beautiful things”. Then, I gently lay her to sleep beside my bed. Depending on the day, I usually leave the room and take those few hours to be productive; fold some laundry, tidy up the kitchen, get in a pump session. But the night always ends the same, I crawl into bed and lay beside my sweet baby girl. I fall asleep to her sound of her little breaths and her pacifier faintly squeaking. It’s my favourite place to be, all crammed together in our tiny room. I curl up to the edge of the bed, and get this phantom feeling like we’re one again.
And the mornings… oh the mornings. They’ve been our time together for longer than anyone else realizes. I remember when I was pregnant, your kicks would wake me up so early. I would stay in bed quietly so that Chris could keep sleeping, and just lay there and feel you. I always said it was our little time in the day to hang out, just you and me. And every morning since then, I’ve rolled my head off of my pillow to look at you first. I always ask “Where did you go in your dreams?” and you always greet me with the sweetest smile because you know… it’s morning, our time. Our day together is just beginning and already it’s beautiful.
But lately you’ve been waking up through the night, you’re restless and more sensitive to the sounds of the room. I keep making the excuse that it’s easier to soothe you when you’re right beside me, but I know that’s starting to lose its truth. I had a plan for how we’d spend our last nights together, we were scheduled to take a trip to the beach as a family. I would soak in every sunset with you, and end our room-sharing journey with warm memories. The travel restrictions recently put in place took that dream away, and now out of nowhere I get the feeling you’re ready to go, out into the big beautiful world that lays just down the hall. I’m intimidated by the transition, and the thought of disturbed sleep. But most of all, I’m not ready to not have you right beside me.
The terrifying reality is, I don’t anticipate this feeling will ever go away. As a mother, once upon a time we were one, and that will never change. To not have you be beside me, feels like my heart is down the hall. I will always crave you; your hugs, the sweet sounds of your little breaths, your smile to greet me each day. I’m not quite ready, and I may use my excuses for a little while longer, but I know the time is coming. So please, my precious Lou, know that wherever you go you take a (big) piece of me with you. Even if it’s just down the hall.
P.S. I plan to be sleeping on the couch outside your door for a while
