|Silas Karl * One Day Old * In Our Family Bed|
I will remember this moment when I am sixty.
Silas has slept in bed with his mama and papa for every one of his 121 nights in this world. We laid him to sleep between us on that first night because, frankly, it was the only thing that made sense. Even the cradle next to the bed was too far away for this tiny little being who only hours before had been inside of me. At four months old all three of us sleep better and longer when we are close together. He can, and does, reach out to reassure himself that I'm still there; ready and willing to care for him regardless of the inconsequential number on the clock. I can, and do, reach out to reassure myself that he's still okay. That he's warm and breathing and at peace.
How and what it means to share sleep is as varied as the number of people who do it, of course. For me, it's a sacred little minute in the yawning hours of life in which I can wake up with my baby nestled in the crook of my arm and feel pure and profound bliss.