They’re in my bed. I said it wouldn’t happen again, but it has. It’s just so much easier than getting in and out every hour or so, those eight steps from my bed to their crib feeling like I have lead in my feet, eyes struggling to stay open. Especially because their father is out of town for business, what’s a gal to do with a king-sized bed?
Why wouldn’t I want my babies in my bed? My first child kept me up all night for 18 months. I don’t know how I survived that time. The moment he slept in his own bed in his own room, we both slept through the night for what felt like the first time in forever (for me anyway). My second son thought 4.00 am was the start of the day. With two kids and little sleep, life was looking bleak. Co-sleeping with #2 just wasn’t working. Again. And off he went, back to his crib. Voila, sleep came back.
So the twins are in my bed. They don’t always wake up at the same time for a feed. I’ve tried to sync them – wake one when the other is up. Do you know how hard it is to stick a boob into a sleepy baby’s mouth? By the time it happens, the first one has finished and fallen asleep. The second one is just starting. And the second one is pissed off because I woke him/ her up.
I am allowing natural rhythm to happen. Sometimes, the stars align and they are synced, oh happy days (or rather, nights). Most nights, it’s a rhythm of sleep an hour, wake up to feed one for half an hour, sleep 30 minutes, wake up to feed the other, sleep an hour. Repeat.
Trudging from bed to crib to nursing chair adds too many minutes.
A big bed is a lonely place when you’re just one.
And so they’re in my bed.