I got a lot of flak from people when I decided to co-sleep with my child. From troubled looks from other mothers, to outright condemnation of my methods from colleagues at work (he'll never sleep on his own if you don't force him!) to "expressions of concern" from my family members. It got so that I just didn't talk about it, and was frankly embarrassed by it. Not that I didn't love it, not that I didn't think that it was right for my child and my family, but I was embarrassed to invite over playdates and face the inevitable confusion when I have a two-bedroom house and no bedroom for my child.
It got so bad, in fact, that a close friend of my mother's suggested to my mother and my sister that should I decide to have another child and decide to co-sleep with said child, that the three of them should conduct an intervention before I harm the child.
Let me say right now for the record that should this happen, should my mother and sister participate in such a ridiculous and insulting endeavour, that it will indelibly and negatively impact our relationship ... to say the least.
Or, shall we just say without splitting hairs and trying to be tactful: Man, will I ever be pissed.
The negative talk from so many people in my life left me with considerable mommy guilt. Never mind that my child woke during the night and nursed until after he was two, never mind that he still wakes in the night and calls for me for comfort at three, never mind that I cannot feel myself to be a good parent when parenting ends at 8pm and resumes at 7am, and never mind that constant night wakings in different rooms would surely have compromised my sanity and my ability to parent at all hours of the day ... and never mind that my child wanted me close, that it was a good decision for me and my child and my partner.
I still felt the guilt.
I do not for a second believe that I would have the child I have now without co-sleeping. I had a child who needed, on a completely instinctual level, close human contact for the first years of his life. He still asks to nurse though we haven't done so in months, he still cuddles up to me even while eating his breakfast, and prefers to be carried if at all possible. I think that ensuring that I met his high needs for attachment have ensured that I have a confident, happy child now and I strongly believe that this will bring benefits to all areas of his life, for the rest of his life. Not all children need this; mine did. And meeting those needs is I believe what parents DO. Your child may have different needs, but not meeting whatever needs your child has is not parenting.
I still feel the guilt.
And so last night, as he was falling asleep, when he said softly, "this is the best part", and I asked "what?" and he replied, "the room, my own room," I felt a pang. I felt a strong pang of mommy guilt. Did I fail him? Was this something he needed months or even years ago, that I didn't provide? Did I fulfill my own needs for closeness at his expense?
I can't really get away from it, it's always there. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
The thing with parenting is that you are never sure. You can never be sure of what you are doing, because the proof is not in the preschool, or the school achievements, or the friends he makes or when he learns to use the potty. The proof only comes when, sometime later, decades later, you look at your child and see a reasonably happy, well adjusted individual who can live his own life within the confines of our society, who can maintain relationships and navigate his way through life. You may not see proof for years, you may not ever see conclusive proof.
All it comes down to is faith. Faith that I did the right thing then, faith that I am doing the right thing now, faith that no matter when he moves into his own bedroom, the fact that his mother and father loved him beyond all else will mean that he will go through life with the constant knowledge, deep down inside, that he is a worthwhile and a perfect human being, despite his many flaws. Because we were willing to do whatever it took to make sure he was happy, that we wanted most of all to do the right thing. That doing the right thing for him mattered to us. Really, really mattered.
So much so, apparently, that I can worry and feel guilty for something as relatively trivial as a bed.
3 comments:
Not that I have any relevant opinions on anything child-rearing related (because how could I?) but I am going to say this anyway, looking at this post from a different angle:
How thrilling that N is at an age where having his own room is something that he is excited and happy about!
I have memories from as far back as when I was 2 and I remember being scared in my room by myself. I slept with a nightlight for YEARS.
I think you're a fantastic mom and I think it's so cool that N will not grow up fearing being in his room by himself!
I completely understand the conflict and guilt, because I feel them, too, and over the same issue (well, that one, too -- I have lots of issues!). But I think Erin's very right -- the fact that he's so happy about moving into his own bed now is probably the best sign you could have (apart from waiting, as you said, 20-30 years) that you've done the best thing for him. My son's going through the same transition now, mainly driven by his own request to sleep in the 'little bed' in his own room -- and he's also happy to have his own bed. But he still wants cuddling and together time too, sometimes... it's a balance. And I think it sounds like you're getting it pretty darn right.
Well, you can probably guess what I'm going to say ... :P
1. What is wrong with people that, faced with so many genuine and serious problems in the world, they obsess about other people's sleeping arrangements? Seriously, you and I don't go around telling people they're damaging their babies' psyches by putting them in cribs ...
2. The fact that The Boy is happy about sleeping in his own bed now doesn't necessarily mean that he would have been happy about it a year ago. SP is now doing a lot of sleeping in her own bed, but when we first tried it two years ago, she was waking up in tears every night and having to be retrieved. Nobody was getting enough sleep, so we desisted.
3. It may not be all about the sleeping space. Maybe some or most of his enthusiasm is for having his own play space, or his own me-space, or feeling like a Big Boy, or all of the above. That also doesn't mean he necessarily needed or wanted that stuff a year ago or two years ago (or, absurd thought, three years ago).
4. No matter what you do or don't do, or how, or when, there will always be mommy guilt. I don't think there's anything we can really do about that except, you know, just go on. :P
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