A Life Line

Last night was tough.  William pretty much napped a total of an hour yesterday, so by the time 7:00 p.m. rolled around, he was over-stimulated, over-tired, and just plain fussy.  Nothing settled him.  That's when I figured out that side-lying nursing is the only thing that seems to work in that situation:  Lay down with the baby, let him nurse, settle, and fall asleep.  He woke every 20 minutes after that (until about 9ish) to nurse, but I sort of expected it, so it didn't surprise me in the slightest.

That's how I ended up going to bed around 9:00.  William pretty much slept for 11 hours.  (Note: When I say "slept" here, I mean he roused enough to nurse several times, but ended up going right back to sleep when he was done.  He only nurses for about 7 minutes at a time so it's pretty quick.  Also, I've stopped getting up to nurse him more than once or twice a night, since he can latch pretty easily without me having to get up.  It's pretty great.)  Anyway, that's how I ended up getting 8 hours of sleep last night and found myself wide awake after his 5 a.m. feeding.  I brought my Kindle (Paperwhite, if you were curious) to bed with me and read while he slept.  It was during this time that I actually got to watch him sleep--really sleep--for the first time since he was born.  Before now, I was always too tired to stay up, but we're getting into a rhythm that allows me to get rest even though I still wake to breastfeed him.  And with that rest, I realized a couple things in the wee hours of morning:

1. that I/we made the right decision to co-sleep.  While he was sleeping, every now and then, he would reach out with both arms (and feet too), searching for something.  I was far enough away--we're in a king-sized bed--that he wasn't touching me, so I didn't quite get what he was doing.  I thought he was just fidgeting.  But when I reached out my hand to reassure him, he grabbed onto it as though it were a lifeline and he was drowning in the ocean.  I turned on a dim light and looked down at his face.  He was frantic.  He was frantically reaching out in his sleep for...comfort?  for what?  For me.  For safety.  Yes, for comfort.  For reassurance that he wasn't alone.  When you think about it, when babies are in the womb, they don't need reassurance that you are there because they are surrounded all the time, and literally, are connected to you.  But once they're out, the world is cold and can be quite lonely.  So they need--not want--but need to know that they haven't been abandoned.  Now, I suppose this goes against current mainstream beliefs to let babies "soothe themselves" or "cry it out," but after what I saw last night and how much he needed to know I was there, I am convinced that co-sleeping is the right path...at least for us.  There will be time for him to sleep alone in his own bed and in his own room, but for right now, in his first 5  (6, 9, 12?) months of life, he needs to learn that he is not alone, that comfort is just an arm's reach away, and that all he has to do is ask for it, whether by a small cry in the night or by fidgeting enough to wake his sleeping momma.
2. that there is a world of joy wrapped up in one tiny little person. The great thing about this is that this little person has no idea about the joy he carries with him.  His smiles, his laughs--they are 100% genuine, which make them all the better...sweeter.  I suppose this goes for all babies, but right now, I'm caught up in just my little one.

I'd love to go on, but my little one is nearly done with his ExerSaucer...and *I* need to get some breakfast.  I have been up for 3-and-a-half hours already.