My youngest son has never slept easily. Before we got him medicine, he’d only sleep 20 minutes at a time. It’s unknown why, though it’s possibly related to the difficult pregnancy I had with him. Whatever the cause, he has only slept when pressed firmly up against another human – and that human had to be me.
There wasn’t much joy to find in these night-long battles; it was arduous and painful in so many ways. Just before he turned 3 years old, it led to a complete breakdown in my ability to cope with everyday life. That’s when I realized I had to change my mindset. As overwhelming as it was – and still is – what helped was to stop focusing on the battle and reframe it, so I felt I achieved something every night. I did that by:
- Reminding myself he physically needed me; he wasn’t being difficult.
- Slowing my breathing and guiding him to match my rhythm, to find peace.
- Recognizing that I am his “safe place.” Just being near me is enough to let him feel safe and secure.
I count myself lucky that I can give him rest when nothing else in this world can. And at the end of the day, who can complain about hugging their baby to sleep?
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