We are very lucky. SB is an excellent sleeper. Sure, we have the occasional issue, but on the whole she sleeps very well. And we do count our blessings.
In the beginning, she was in our bedroom. She slept in her crib most of the time, at the foot of our bed. We made that decision for many reasons, and it was an arrangement that worked well for us.
Eventually, we made the decision to move her to her own room upstairs. And that has worked very well, too. It was an easy transition, and one we have never questioned making.
I rarely go to her room once she is settled. Sometimes she will have a bad dream, or wake and be disoriented. And I am always there when she needs me. My hubby marvels at my ability to wake, get out of bed and ascend the stairs in the deep of night.
The only time I don't like SB being in her own room is when she is sick. I just want to be with her. Comfort her. Watch over her. Make sure she is OK.
When my "baby" is sick, I can't stand to be away from her.
Last week she was. It was just a cold, nothing serious. And even though she was sleeping OK, I could not stay away. Before I went to bed, I crept into her room and stood over her bed watching her.
I could hear the congestion in her breathing. I bent over and placed my hand on her chest to make sure it was in her head and not her lungs. And stood there like that, my hand moving up and down with her breathing.
In that moment, I was overcome with love.
The love you feel for your child(ren) cannot be explained. Words are simply not adequate. It can't be measured. No worldly method would be up for the task of even trying.
This love fills me with words, yet often renders me speechless.
How could I define an entity so simple, yet so complex?
It is illogical. One plus one equals three.
Imperfect, but also beautifully perfect.
This love, it is unlike anything I have ever known.
It is sacred. I am frequently overwhelmed by it.
And I don't have to translate. Every parent knows.