“I sleep in a bed full of kids.
On a regular morning,
I wake up with a foot in my face,
a head on my chest,
and someone screaming in my ear or sitting on my head and saying, ‘Mommy wake up!’
My instinct has always been to sleep near my babies.
I didn’t know my fate until I gave birth to a little wrinkled newborn and held her in my arms.
And as a bone-tired first-time parent, who struggled to breastfeed, it just happened.
My first baby wasn’t satisfied until she was on me or her hand was entwined in mine from our co-sleeper bassinet.
And as she got older and it became safer, she made her way into our bed. Every time I tossed or turned,
she’d move with me, ensuring our bodies were still connected.
And with each child, it was similar.
It’s where they’re at their happiest and most settled,
and where I’m happiest, too.
Having my babies close is comforting.
When I hear screams and little feet pitter-pattering in our room because my middle child had a
nightmare—we let her in by snuggling her in our arms, calming her fears.
When one of my children can’t sleep after going to the bathroom in the middle of the night, she comes to
our room because it’s where she can peacefully settle back into sleep.
I have an open bed policy
because our children won’t always want us around,
to share a small space,
And one day soon,
I’ll wake to an empty bed.
And I know,
I’ll miss my bed full of kids.”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Danielle Sherman-Lazar of New Jersey. You can follow her journey on Facebook and her blog. Submit your own story here, and be sure to subscribe to our free email newsletter for our best stories.
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