We were mostly co-sleepers with Madeline. She was sleeping fine in her crib, but when her pulmonologist wanted her to have oxygen at night I was scared that she’d get the cord wrapped around her neck. I was able to sleep with her next to me, her head next to mine. I breathed easier when I could hear her breathe. She didn’t take up a lot of room, but after she died the space she left in our bed was huge.
After Annabel was born, she slept on me for the first few weeks, and then in a bassinet next to my side of the bed. But we eventually moved her into the bed with us. We needed her close, we both wanted to be able to touch her and watch her sleep and breathe and be alive.
Eventually, though, Annabel grew and became a terrible bed mate. So she moved to her crib, and we all slept so much better. She was big and strong and I didn’t worry about her the way I had when she was little and new.
But sometimes….sometimes at night, when my sickness overpowers my medicines, I think about the nights I’d be up late watching Madeline. I miss her so much. Two nights ago I was so terribly sad missing her and Jackie, who has now been gone for six months. And even though Mike and Rigby were both there in the bed with me, it felt empty. I needed my girl.
I woke Mike up and asked him to bring Annie in. I needed to snuggle her and feel her warmth and watch her breathe. He brought her in and laid her next to me. She opened her eyes groggily and said, “Hi Mama. I’m in your bed. I’m dreaming about sand castles.” I asked her if I could snuggle her and she said, “Yes please.” She wiggled into me and closed her eyes.
I wrapped my arms around her and was finally able to sleep.