Mission: Crib

When we first brought Roger home and tried to get him to sleep in his crib right off the bat, the whole ordeal was a disaster. After a couple weeks of sleepless nights spent diligently walking laps around the house and rocking in the rocking chair until it was hitting the wall behind it, we accepted the fact that the only way any of us - Roger included - were going to get any sleep was to move him into our room. Roger's first night in the cradle next to the bed, he slept like a rock. The very first night. It almost seemed too easy.

Given that we had never really planned on ever having Roger sleep in our room in the first place, we had to set an "end date" to the cradle and decided that when the little guy was 3 months old would be a good time to revisit the crib situation. This past Wednesday was D-Day. November 17. The day Roger turned 3 months old. By now, he's sleeping through the night with no problem. It's been well over a month since I stopped waking him up every few hours for a feeding during the night thereby rendering the cradle unnecessary. I had promised Matt that Roger would be out of our room and in his nursery - it was something we had BOTH agreed on together, as parents.

But when Wednesday rolled around, I found myself completely unprepared for the emotions that overwhelmed me. I didn't want Roger to go sleep in his room. His presence in the cradle next to my side of the bed was a measure of comfort for me. I liked that if he fussed a little in his sleep, I simply had to roll over and reach my hand in the cradle to give his belly a reassuring rub or to replace his lost pacifier. I had become so attached to the idea of Roger being right there, I wasn't ready for him to make the move to his room. I protested rather heartily when Matt put him to bed in his crib Wednesday night. I checked about a billion times to make absolutely positively SURE that the baby monitor was working. I woke up over ever little stir that came over the baby monitor. At about 1 a.m. I went and got him, bringing him into his cradle so that I could get a good night sleep since I had to work Thursday morning (on a side note, I'm blessed enough that Roger is able to go to work with me, incase the question arose about how I could tear myself away from him during the work day but not at night while I'm sleeping). I felt a little bad for breaking under pressure so easily. I had been concerned that Roger would be the one who'd give us difficulties when we moved him into his own room, but as it turns out, it was me.

I was a bit more prepared last night when I put Roger to bed in his crib. Though I did check on him numerous times (only to find him sprawled out and sleeping peacefully), I did eventually put my faith in the baby monitor and fall asleep. And Roger slept soundly the whole night through. It didn't make a different to HIM that he was in a new place. For all I know, he was probably a lot more comfortable in his nice big crib. The point is, we both (well, me in particular) survived our first night apart. And I suppose sooner or later this day would have to come. Undoubtedly the longer we waited the more difficult it would have become for him to accept that little modicum of independence of which infants are capable. I don't know what I expected - it's not like he could sleep in his little cradle next to the bed till the day he left for college.

I thought the revisitation to the crib mission would be a replay of the first few weeks with Roger screaming in protest the second his butt hit the crib mattress, but it wasn't at all. Roger readily and willingly accepted his new bed. He really does seem to like it better. Rather, it was me who made the bigger deal of the issue. I'll miss the little monster sleeping soundly right by me. I know it'll take a few more nights (or longer) till I'm accustomed to him being in his own room, but ultimately, this is for the best. Our little man is growing up...