When our little one, Lily, was just under a month old, she faced a health crisis that led to her hospitalization. Each night, she lay in a hospital crib, surrounded by a maze of tubes and wires, resembling a tiny alien pod. As I watched her, my heart ached, and I found myself testing the crib’s side rail, waiting for the nurse to step away. My partner, Sam, stood by watching. With careful, deliberate movements, I climbed over the crib’s edge, being mindful not to disturb any equipment. I curled my body around hers, breathing softly into her face.
When she first stirred and instinctively reached to nurse, my tears flowed freely. The nurses, surprised but warm, permitted me to stay close to her every night. My ability to lie beside her, nurturing her, became the most healing experience during our hospital stay. I truly believe our bond facilitated both her recovery and my own.
We may not live in a rustic setting or lead an unconventional lifestyle, but our family bed is a cornerstone of our home life. This choice may seem rebellious in our suburban San Diego environment, yet my partner intuitively embraces what feels right for our family. I, on the other hand, often feel compelled to explain our choices. The raised eyebrows and awkward shifting I encounter when discussing our sleeping arrangements can be challenging.
But the idea of sleeping apart from our children is far more difficult for me. From the moment they entered the world, our children have shared our bed. We practice safe co-sleeping, adhering to guidelines: no fluffy blankets, no pillows, and no alcohol consumption. If either of us had a sleep disorder, co-sleeping might not be an option. But as it stands, when the baby wakes to nurse, it’s a simple and seamless experience.
As our children grow, co-sleeping evolves into more than just a protective measure. It becomes a refuge from daily struggles, a space where we reconnect as a family. When Lily has a nightmare, she often wakes up and reaches out for me, softly calling, “Mom?” My response reassures her, allowing her to settle back and drift off to sleep. Contrary to the belief that such closeness hinders self-soothing, I’ve witnessed the opposite: my children have become more capable of comforting themselves. They feel secure knowing we are there for them, and by age three, all four of my kids displayed remarkable independence. They easily engage with friends and family, play by themselves, and can even sleep alone when necessary.
Regarding another concern, after 13 years of marriage, Sam and I maintain a fulfilling intimate life, one that rivals many couples in their twenties. It’s entirely feasible to nurture that aspect of our relationship, even in a shared sleeping arrangement.
As our children mature, the family bed becomes dynamic, adapting to our needs. There are nights when we snuggle with our youngest two, ages 4 and 13, while enjoying late-night conversations with our teenager. These sleepy discussions often reveal their innermost thoughts, ones they might hesitate to share in daylight.
Co-sleeping encapsulates all that it means to be human—the endearing giggles, the snoring, and even the awkward moments. While the darkness can feel overwhelming, the presence of a loved one offers comfort and protection in a world where our children must navigate their paths. Together, we find solace and safety.
This article was originally published on July 12, 2015. For more information on family dynamics and home insemination, check out our posts on home insemination kits. If you’re looking for authoritative insights, you can visit Preimplantation Genetic Screening. Additionally, NHS provides excellent resources for pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, our family’s co-sleeping practice is about nurturing bonds, ensuring safety, and cultivating independence in a loving environment. It is a choice that fosters connection and understanding, ultimately allowing our children to feel secure and confident in the world around them.