How I Learned to Stop Worrying (yeah, right) and Love Co-Sleeping

As an IFer, I'm terrified of baby dying. Not that someone more fertile would be cool with infant demise, but if you know this might be the only biochild you'll ever, ever have, SIDS and stuff scares you shitless. Again, not that a fertile myrtle can just replace someone they lost, but...well, you know what I mean. It's a little different for us.

So I was horrified in some respects when we first tried to put Bruiser down to sleep. And he wouldn't do it. The urge to hold his darling, tiny, hungry little self was stronger than the American sense that I was ruining his chances of developing proper sleep independence or whatever. Regardless, Bruiser refused to sleep, even in a side-car co-sleeper contraption, even if already soundly and deeply slumbering. The instant you put him down, he perks up and starts fussing determinedly.

I mentioned it to our pediatrician at our two month appointment that we were co-sleeping. Or to be more precise bed sharing, when the kid's in your arms in your bed, not just in the same room. She exclaimed that we shouldn't be doing this, that the last two cases of SIDS or infant death or what have you were co-sleeping situations. She said to try a pacifier or even to let him cry until he got used to a different, safer sleeping arrangement.

So we went home, with our sad little guy who just got his first shots, and tried to get him to sleep in his own little side-car space.

Ha.

Bruiser's motto: Accept no substitutes. That breast pad and dryer-warmed blanket? That pacifier? An insult to his baby dignity. He knew what he wanted, and that was to lie next to a boob in my arms.

The wise blogger Moxie has come up with an important distinction when it comes to babies. There are those who cry and blow off steam, eventually (i.e. in 10-20 minutes) settling down, and there are those who cry and cry and cry as their tension and horror and despair escalate. They may fall asleep at some point, but it's out of hopelessness and sheer exhaustion, not "self-soothing." Bruiser will work himself up to such an extent that he throws up, turns beet red, and frankly wastes all those calories I spend all day pouring into him that he should be using to grow.

So I had to learn about another important and neglected distinction: there's safe and unsafe co-sleeping. Interestingly, some of the countries (China, Japan) with the highest co-sleeping rates have some of the lowest SIDS rates in the world. Why? Because their beds are radically different from your typical American set up: hard mattresses close to the floor with light blankets and few pillows. Sounds a lot like the CIA prison-style bedding recommendations for infant beds, right? Then, there's another point: moms in these low SIDS-rate countries often sleep alone with their infants, not with other adults or children.

So we laid down our old futon at the foot of our bed, and that's where Bruiser and I sleep. We're near my husband, and he can come and cuddle with us (or with just me), but no one has to worry about Bruiser getting hurt somehow. My guy barely slept when we tried sleeping with me holding Bruiser in the side car (and talk about uncomfortable), so this new arrangement works pretty well for us.

Though I still have some mornings when I wake up feeling like a truck hit me due to stiffness, I'm actually able to get some good sleep. And this morning, I had my first truly pleasant experience: I woke up to nurse the little guy, and just felt so wonderful cuddling his warm, sweet cheese-scented little form as he sleepily had his first of four breakfasts.

Then why did my otherwise pretty cool pediatrician declare so categorically that this was a terrible idea? Because, kind of like alcohol during pregnancy, the way to do it right is pretty complicated. No smoking, or even second-hand smoke (a strong correlation to SIDS in co-sleeping situations). No naps on the couch with baby. No alcohol or sleep aids before bed. No headboards, guardrails, or gaps between the bed and wall. No big pillows or fluffy duvets near baby. That's already a looong list to tell a sleep-deprived parent. So the docs just say don't do it at all.

I'm writing about all this, because I think as an IF survivor, I've got a head full of fear. I think it comes with the IF territory for most of us. We end up listening to people in authority (and often that's a good thing) but there are times when our needs and those of our loved ones contradict the party line.

I want to pass along the message that just because this has been a hard-fought and -won victory, you don't have to be perfect, or even great. Just be adequate and choose your own adventure. Now that you're on the "other side" of IF, so to speak, you have nothing to compensate or make up for. Just let your love and instincts guide you, and keep using the wits that finally got you here.