The Mom Salon | July 2021

Sleep

By Kate Bailey I remember when my oldest child slept through the night for the first time. We went to sleep and woke up to light filtering through the window. I popped up, looked at my husband, and we squealed with delight. SHE DID IT! I had never felt more well-rested than I did at that moment. It was the first time in six weeks that I had gotten eight consecutive hours of sleep.

I celebrated as I waltzed through the living room into her room where she laid swaddled, babbling, looking up at me, smiling. An angel. Like she knew what she had done. I told her how proud I was of her. From then on, she slept. We’d have friends over after she went to bed, conversations and laughter and music just on the other side of her bedroom wall, and she slept. We’d ride for long distances in the car, and she slept. Sure, she’d have bouts of sleep regression or teething or colds that would get her out of whack, but she slept. We thought this was normal. Sure, the first six weeks are hard, but if you just swaddle, bottle, and put them in their own crib, they’ll sleep! What’s all the fuss about? And then we had our second.

We live in a small, two bedroom home, and so our second child’s crib was tucked in the corner of our bedroom. She’ll just sleep in here for the first six weeks, we told ourselves, and then when she’s sleeping a little better, she’ll move in with our oldest. Our second child, April, is fifteen months old now, and I can count on maybe two hands the amount of times she has slept through the night uninterrupted. From the moment we brought her home, she grunted and groaned and cried throughout the night (even while seemingly “asleep”). She nursed until she was fourteen months old, and she insisted on being fed every hour or two. A three-hour stretch was a blessing. Four hours total every night — and not consecutive — was normal. If my husband or I simply turned in the bed, she’d hear it and immediately wake. Needless to say, the crib never made it out of our bedroom.

There was this heavy feeling that would wash over me as night time approached. The moment we’d place her in her crib, I felt like I had to rush to do all-the-things so that I, too, could get in bed — nevermind that it was eight at night. Lights from the living room reached for me in the dark 1