Sleep has always been my friend. Give me somewhere to lie my head and I’ve always been able to snooze off with no problems, straight after a coffee, on a train, on a couch with a party in full swing. It’s one of my favourite things.
In fact, it was one of the things I was pretty scared of post-child – how would I cope with less sleep? I was a full 10 hour a night kind of girl.
The answer I soon found was that I coped better than I expected. I would nap in the afternoon with J beside me, I’d bring him into bed to maximise night time sleep. I coped, in that kind of frayed round the edges way that most mothers cope with sleep deprivation. I got used to it. Continue reading
Before I became a parent, I hadn’t given much thought to where my baby would sleep.
I just envisioned him sleeping in a bassinet in our room and then transitioning to a cot in his own room.
But my boy, he was one of those difficult sleepers. He could never be put down when he was small; even if he was in the deepest sleep he would wake up screaming. So I got used to him sleeping on me, or in his Ergo, he fed to sleep almost every sleep. I felt I was doing it all wrong. But in the battle of sanity and doing it ‘right’, sanity won. I just went with it. I did whatever I could to get him to sleep, even if I had to be couch bound for an hour or so.
Cue the beginning of our co-sleeping relationship. When he woke at night, it was much easier to bring him into bed with us for a feed. I would nod back to sleep and he would too, tucked up between us, with my body curled around him like a giant C. Continue reading