{Guest Post} The Family Bed by Corrine Conningham

{photo by Madeline Bea}

I am thrilled to welcome our first guest writer here at Life Set to Words. Corrine is a beautiful woman, and wonderful mom, and a truly talented writer She joins us today to speak about her experiences with co-sleeping. I know you'll fall in love with her, just as I did. So leave her some love here and then go visit her at Trains, Tutus, & Tea Time.

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I vividly remember our first afternoon home as a family of three. We had just made it home from the hospital, worn out from the exhaustion that is the first days of life, and we climbed up the stairs to our bedroom which doubled as a nursery with our son. I gingerly hopped into my the bed, glancing over to the perfectly done up crib, Winnie the Pooh bumper and mobile and dust ruffle. Expecting my husband to put Fynn down in crib, I gave a quizzical look as he brought the babe over to our bed, and made a nest of sorts between us. "The crib is just so big, and he's so small..." said my husband. I nodded. Fynn snuggled his way into our arms and our bed. We breathed in all of his two day old sweetness, and wrapped ourselves around each other and the newness of being a family.

When I was pregnant I read about co-sleeping, the stories of five and six year olds still in the family bed. I swore that wouldn't be us. We needed our space, needed to preserve our marriage within our family. We needed boundaries. We are now a family of four. Fynn is almost three and a half, and our baby girl, Paige, is 19 months old. They share a bedroom, complete with a full size bed for Fynn and a toddler bed for Paige. The bedtime routine consists of brushing teeth, reading stories, hugs and kisses, and then they get tucked into their individual beds. Paige wakes often, and when she can't get settle into her own bed she joins us. Most nights by midnight. She finds her spot between myself and Lucas, an arm to cuddle with - along with a baby doll and a blankie. We keep the monitor on so we can hear Fynn, and when he wakes, often by three, one of us joins him in his expansive double bed. This is our routine. The snuggles, the cuddles. Singing songs or telling stories until they drift back to sleep. And we stay with them. Now we breathe in their not so newness and their childhood dreams.

I believe whole heartedly that co-sleeping has saved our sanity. When at home with the kids, I take them into my bed for naptime. The double nap is held sacred in my eyes, and the only way to secure the two hours of bliss is to lay between them, one on each arm. There are days when I'd rather be tending to needs outside of the bedroom, but that time allows me to quiet down, to hear my thoughts, or read a few pages in a book I've been able to sneak in, and occasionally close my eyes for a few moments. It's also our time, together. There is nothing sweeter than waking up with both children from a nap and watch them say "morning!" to each other and giggle themselves awake and start the afternoon anew. No matter what happened in the morning, we get a fresh start, together. The same goes for waking in the morning next to a not so little bundle of energy. It's bliss.

Our boundaries have been pushed and changed. We still hold our marriage sacred, but adding the children to our bed in the middle of the night has almost enhanced it. We have our time prior to Paige's waking and joining us, and we lock hands over her belly and feel close. They enhance our love, make it larger. Watching my husband as he sleepily snuggles one of our children fills my heart with so much joy. There have been times where Lucas has had to front the night time parenting responsibilities, when I was not able to play an active role in our night time parenting, and I have rarely heard a complaint. It's silently understood that co-sleeping is a part of our life, an important aspect in our parenting. It's tiring, and trying at times, but it's worth every movie cut short by a baby's needs and dream interrupted by a preschooler's request for the potty or a midnight cuddle.

In time, they will sleep through the night. Fynn will occasionally, and when he does we praise him, secretly missing the hours at night with him. On the rare nights Paige sleeps past her parents bedtime, we wait anxiously for the noises that call us to her. We might slightly nudge them to stay in their bed at times, to wish and hope for the nights where they don't need us, to pray for a full nights sleep. But until and after that point, they know we're here. Day and night, arms open and beds shared.