I saw this article pop up on my AOL home page this morning and it tugged at my heart strings at bit. Sheila Quirke writes about how her son has a “hole in the bed” that, at some time during the night, he slips through and ends up in his parents bed. She goes on to write about how her first child, Donna, used to sleep in their bed, as well. That is, until the day she passed away from cancer at far too young an age. It’s a good article. Read it.
My four-year-old sneaks into my bed pretty much every night. I don’t think she even does it consciously any more – it’s just something her body does in the middle of the night. She sleepily walks across the house and climbs into my bed. She squeezes in and fits perfectly into the crook of my arm. I don’t even know she’s there until I wake up in the morning and find that I’m snuggling my baby.
She just sleeps better when she’s with me.
I’ve often told myself that I really should try to break her of the habit. I even tell my husband that I don’t want her sneaking in every night. But, as I fall asleep every night, I find that I wish I had her little body laying there with me…her warmth helping to comfort me to sleep like a baby in its mother’s arms.
I enjoy snuggling her.
Last night, Dumpling didn’t sneak into my bed. I woke up feeling more tired than usual and I realized that I tossed and turned quite a bit during the night. It just wasn’t a good night’s sleep.
I sleep better when she’s with me.
After reading Sheila’s story about her daughter’s passing too soon and how she cherished every moment that Donna spent in her bed, I reminded myself that you never know when you’re holding your child for the last time. Why should I rush her out of my bed when, surely, she will grow out of it too soon on her own and no longer want me to hold her?
I’m holding on.
Tonight, I won’t ask her to come into my bed, but I won’t stop her, either.