January 03, 2017

our bed sharing journey

i have bed shared with all three of my children. each of my babies have given me different experiences, too. with my first, she was easy. slept in her own space (read: sleeping in a big X formation), bounced from our bed to her own from time to time, never stayed latched after nursing, and didn't beg to stay in bed with me when i said it was time for her to go into her own big girl bed at four. with my second (ten years later), it was also easy. only nursed a few times through out the night, never stayed latched after nursing, stayed close but wanted his own space and kept his body to himself and transitioned into his crib at one year just fine, even though i bounced back and forth between him being in bed with me or sleeping on his own once transitioned. with my third baby, it has been hard. a struggle, really; but a beautiful struggle. 

while i love the convenience that bed sharing has always given me, especially since i am no good between the hours of 11pm and 9am and am incredibly lazy in the middle of the night, it has been rough on me this time. at first, it was because i was recovering from a cesarean and i found it very difficult to get comfortable, but then it morphed into a feeling of suffocation. even in our king size bed i feel smothered. i know that some of that feeling has to do with my ppd and ppa, but a big chunk of it has to do with joseph practically taking up every square inch of my side of the bed practically on top of me while my husband is over in his space completely untouched. 

joseph also stays latched all night long. like, i cannot even remove my boob from his mouth and move an inch, just to have some space without him freaking out. and forget trying to trick him with the pacifier; he knows. he will open both his eyes, look right at me, grab the pacifier and legit just toss that fake nipple right over the side of the bed with his eyes locked on mine the whole time giving me the stare down. like, 'wtf are you doing, mother? give me the tit. you can't trick me.' and so, back on the boob he goes. but that isn't the worst of it, no. this sweet, beautiful baby boy loves to knead, pull, scratch, pinch, rub and a bunch of other annoying verbs. he will mess around with my bra, my nursing pad, my boob, my cheeks, my neck, my hair, my belly all night long and all while asleepthe boots and bar also kick me and leave bruises on my thighs, but that's just a small price to pay for perfect feet. but still-i cannot sleep. 

and sometimes, when my toddler's night terrors are really bad, i bring both boys out on the couch to sleep. well, so they can sleep. i get none. 

not all nights are horrible, and i do find some relief from 7-8am. i also get to wake up to this:

and while there still is some bliss and i'll miss his boots and bar kicking me, i am counting down the days until i can crawl into bed with my husband and not have a baby in the middle. and actually get some freaking sleep.

No comments:

Post a Comment