I knew it was time. It was one am and Asher had been up for the past two hours wide awake. I was so exhausted I didn’t think the night would ever end. He stared back at me so confused why I was so upset and all he wanted to do was play. As I sat him up he grabbed my face and kissed me. My heart sunk and I could feel my chest get tight. He finally rubbed his eyes and let out a big yawn.
And after three hours his eyes finally peacefully closed. I laid him down next to my bed in his bassinet and as I laid my head down, the tears saturated my pillow.
From day one, sleep was always something we struggled with. Maybe I held him too much or maybe my baby didn’t give me a choice but he refused to be put down. It didn’t matter if it was during the day while I made breakfast or at night for bedtime. He needed me. For four months he and I shared the couch as we quickly realized there was no other way we would sleep.
It felt like I had finally mastered motherhood when we got him to sleep in the bassinet at four months. He was already almost too big for it by the time I got him to use it but it felt like such a feat for us.
Life got easier. My evenings were freed up to do adult things and be my own person for just a few hours a day.
Two months went by. He was too big. I knew it but I ignored it. I was such a light sleeper that the second Asher would wake he wouldn’t have to make a peep as I would sweep him from his bed and feed him then he would peacefully drift off. A few times I would lay there a little too long and I would look over and have a mini heart attack as I would catch him almost rolling over. I still denied it. It had taken too long to get here. I wasn’t ready to lose him completely.
Once he reached six months it all changed. His twice a night feedings turned into three. Then four. Then he was awake more than he was even asleep. My anxiety was drifting back into my mind as the exhaustion and frustrations were taking over. How could my perfect sleeping baby be moving backward in the sleep department?!
It was the sixth night in a row where I had gotten only 1-2 hours a night of sleep. We both were physically and mentally drained. I knew it was time but I was heartbroken at the thought of him being so far away from me at night. I made up my mind that this night was going to be the last night and that I could and would do this.
The next day I was sick to my stomach. All day long all I could think about was the task at hand and what was to come that evening. Maybe its just a mom thing or maybe it was just hormones but I felt like I was losing my baby. I dreaded starting our bedtime routine and cried sporadically throughout the day.
Then it was time.
I started our routine the same way we always have. He soaked and splashed in the bath until his little fingers and toes turned wrinkly. I lathered him up in lotion and put on his pajamas and sleep sack. Then I nursed my baby and he drifted off. I rocked him and held him close for half an hour. I already had tears in my eyes at the thought of what I was about to do.
I slowly stood up as I carried his little body up the stairs. My husband had the sound machine already blaring and the baby monitor ready to go. The curtains were pulled shut and the room was the perfect temperature. I stood over the crib and slowly lowered him over the railing…
Before he even grazed the mattress his eyes snapped open and grew wide with fear. He stared right into my eyes and before I knew what was happening the room was filled with a scream I had never heard come out of my little six-month baby. I continued to set him down as I hurried and left the room. His screams were torturous and what felt like minutes were only seconds. I was sobbing.
My baby felt abandoned. His mama is the only thing he’s ever known and now he was alone in a strange room, on a cold mattress. No one tells you this part of motherhood. No one warns you that the things that may have to be done will be some of the hardest things you’ve ever done.
My mind raced. It hadn’t even been a minute yet and the shrills weren’t letting up. I knew what I had to do, I knew this was for his own good but I knew that I couldn’t do it.
And even though everyone said I had to stay strong, that no matter what you can’t give in, I ran back and grabbed up my baby from the crib and held him tight. I rocked him and told him that his mama was there. Even though I had made up my mind that this was the day, that I wouldn’t give in, I went back down the stairs with my baby and comforted him until his little eyes finally went shut knowing his mama was right there with him. I laid him beside me in his bassinet and we both slept for the first time in weeks.
It needs to be done. It has to be done. But maybe tomorrow because tonight my baby just needs me one more day.