Co-sleeping.

Baby Aiden, about a month old.

Since the minute our first child, Aiden, was born on March 7^th 2008 we intentionally decided to forgo use of birth control. In other words, for the last four years I have been pregnant or trying to be pregnant. Trust me, it’s been a rough few years on me, my body, my husband and any sort of (freaky [oh, mom, I hope you skipped this sentence]) sex life.

Nevertheless, we now have three children three and under. Before you draw the usual conclusion that we’re frickin’ crazy (because we’re not) or we just weren’t listening during sex ed. (we definitely were and I think it’s probable that Jarod and I may have paid the most attention in school that day than we ever have in our lives), I wanted our children to grow up close in age so they’d always have someone to play with and with the hope that they’d grow up together and grow in love and closeness all their lives.



Me and baby Tristen on his birth day.

Which brings me to co-sleeping, having three children so close in age we had to make rules to abide by (or we really would become frickin’ crazy) and one of those rules concerned sleeping habits. Aiden and Tristen never slept in our bed aside from the occasional sickness. As newborns they usually slept in a bassinet next to our bed but never in it. Not only do Jarod and I love our sleep but I was always prepping Aiden and Tristen for the next kid to come along because routinely waking up to various babies in the middle of the night sounds like hell to me.

Then came our last and only girl, baby Ali. She’s much more needier than the boys were (probably a preface to what’s to come in the future, right?). She sleeps great during the day but sleeps horrible at night. So last night Jarod took her out of her bassinet and placed her in our bed and basically remarked that, “I'm tired.” My sleep-deprived, groggy external reaction was something like, “uhh, ok” but inside I think I may have been beaming.

Jarod with his little girl, baby Ali.

We make compromises to everything in life and by giving my children siblings so close in age I’ve lost out on rocking them to sleep. In exchange for giving them the gift of sleeping well and knowing how to be independent, I’ve lost excuses to hold them and moments where they "needed" their mommy. I know I haven’t damaged their lives so inconceivably that they’ll need counseling but I know too well how time perpetuates forward even when you try with dear life to hold onto a single moment.

Thus, with our last child (whom I already know full-well is going to be spoiled; have you seen the way her daddy looks at her?!) I don’t mind if she’s a little bit more difficult, if she needs to be rocked to sleep or wants to be held incessantly just because she needs it.

Because in all honest, I think I need it even more.