That resolution was tested the first night and every night of her existence so far, as I found out how easy it is to fall asleep with a happily nursing baby in your arms. The hospital and the Internet had supplied me with plenty of information on SIDS and all the well-intentioned advice on what I should do—have the baby sleep near you but not with you. What no one ever explained to me was how you get a tiny baby that’s only ever known your body to fall asleep anywhere else.
For weeks, she screamed. For weeks, I tried to put her down in the bassinet, the pack’n’play, the cosleeper I insisted on buying on a family trip to Pittsburgh. I began having panic attacks as it grew dark, not knowing how I would keep her safe throughout the night and not trusting my body not to fall asleep and abandon her to something horrible. I slept in the living room for three weeks to avoid falling asleep with her in bed. I read everything on SIDS I could find. There was one inescapable thread of truth.
As long as I kept bringing my baby into my bed, I was unfit to be a mother.
Eventually, I had to reconcile that “truth” with something else—when my exhausted, still healing body would give out on me, I would wake up to a soundly sleeping, peaceful baby. She slept far better with me than she did anywhere else. I slept better with her than I did with her anywhere else. And I desperately needed to sleep.
This drama culminated after my husband got sick of camping out in the living room with us every night (which I had fully planned to do until she was three months old). He went to bed, and I stormed upstairs after him, accusing him of manipulating me, threatening our daughter’s life, abandoning me and finally, collapsing on the floor clutching the edge of the bassinet in tears.
Did I mention I needed to sleep?
I stumbled upon the the research of Dr. James McKenna, director of the Mother-Baby Sleep Laboratory at the University of Notre Dame. He argued that co-sleeping with your child was safer and more beneficial than any other sleep arrangement if it was done with certain guidelines in mind. These included non-smoking, sober parents who were at a healthy weight, a breastfeeding mother, and a comfortable room temperature. I read on to learn that under healthy conditions, a mother would actually function as a pacemaker for her child, helping to regulate the baby’s breathing, heartbeat and sleep patterns.
Even after deciding to bring her into bed with us, I still worry and stress about her safety, and I wake up a million times a night to check on her. But you know what? She gets her needs met immediately, doesn’t scream at night, and wakes up smiling. And I’m a better functioning, happier mother.
What piece of parenting advice did you have to reevaluate, and how did it turn out?