Russ just went to sleep in his crib. No, really – IN his crib. He was not rocked to sleep in advance. He was not fed to sleep (though technically, I did feed him just before putting him down for his nappy-poo, but he woke up as I started moving him upstairs). He cried for several minutes, but I was able to just give him 5-10 minute intervals to “cry it out” a bit before I went in and reassured him that I was there. And anyway, I was in the next room over reorganizing the linen closet, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t hear me. Probably my only real concern was that he tends to get really “floppy” when he’s in the crib and it isn’t unusual for me to leave him on his back and come back to find him sideways or completely turned in the other direction, on his stomach, with one leg through the side of the crib, trying to munch on his glowy seahorse named Bubbles. So I was sort of surprised that I didn’t actually have to reposition him this time! Perhaps this crib thing could happen.
It sounds silly to a lot of folks, but there have been darn near panic attacks for me when I think about Russ sleeping in his crib at night. Since he was born, he has never not slept in the room with us, and usually in his bassinet or Pack n’ Play pulled right up next to my side of the bed. There is something very comforting about being able to look up in two quick seconds, see that he’s okay (and in those first nerve-wracking weeks, check multiple times per night to ensure that he was still breathing…yeah, I’m a total newb), and plop your tired self back down on the bed. But I know it can’t stay that way. This just goes back to that “can’t stop time” issue that I tend to fall into. I’ve learned that the best thing for me to do in matters of my own resistance is to use my own willpower to try and push progress along. Nobody else can do that for me, so this is my baby-steps effort at learning to let Russ sleep in his crib. So far, he’s been asleep for about 30-40 minutes and I am sitting here drinking some hot tea, blogging, and about to start some laundry. No nerves about it, I am happy (and relieved) to report.
The only bad thing about this small but meaningful event in our journey as mommy and baby is that now Rocky the dog is a wee bit freaked out. So freaked out, in fact, that she has curled up next to the dryer and will not move. I guess it’s always going to be something.