Emil. Oh, baby of the family. Our little fuzzy kangaroo.
Place him on your lap and he will insist on standing. Once standing, he bends his little knees and suddenly KICKS back up for the grand jump. Over and over, jumping in place with either the token startled look, or a gigantic open-mouthed grin pasted on his face.
He is, more often than not, found like this these days. Fingers in his mouth, chewing, exploring. I keep checking, sure a tooth is about to bust through, but so far nothing. It will be any day, I’m sure, as his brothers were early teeth men. Bite-the-nipple-that-feeds-you kind of men. I am so nervous as I run my finger along his pink gums, checking for shark-biters. I’m sure my face gives me away. I try to act cool. They can sense fear, you know. I can act nonchalant, pretend I can’t be bothered by the inevitable nipple-bite. But I know it will happen.
He is a sweet, sweet boy. Maybe he won’t bite.
He was born as the sun was rising on a warm August morning. He slept in my hospital bed with me that day. Then that night. He did not leave my side. Like an extra appendage, really, he has felt like he belongs next to me. The nurses said nothing, surely fearful that I, that crazy home-birth woman, would lecture them or explode in anger. Really, I wouldn’t have.
We took him home and he slept in my bed that night. And the next. And the next. Before I knew it, he had never slept in a crib. Or a bassinet. Or a pack-n-play.
And just like that, 5 months went by.
I fought it so hard with Milo. And I was utterly exhausted. And a bit hostile. Same with Oliver. This time, I started out knowing. I knew I would welcome Emil into my bed for at least a few months, to make breastfeeding easy (it has) and sleeping better (it does). Frankly, it just feels right. We have read all the literature, and taken precautions (like no big blankets, pillows, etc. near the baby, no alcohol, and actually, no one else, including Pop, in the bed… sorry, Andrew) and I am literally amazed by how quickly I awaken to every move, every breath Emil makes. It is pretty incredible, the way a mother becomes in tune to her babies when they are near her.
Sure, there are and will be drawbacks. As I am in tune with Emil, he has insta-mom-is-gone-radar when I so much as get out of bed to brush my teeth or get a cup of tea. If he smells me, senses my presence, I don’t know. But when I am not there, he is suddenly awake. But for now, the benefits are really outweighing the drawbacks. And hey, it forces me to blog a lot more since I am confined to the bed from 7pm until I go to sleep at, like 9pm, being the big sleep-wuss that I am. And then I have more pictures to show you.
Like this one.
And this one. Which, now that I look at it, is pretty much exactly the same picture. But it’s EMIL! SMILING!
So. You see? It’s really in all of our best interests that I let my 5-month-old baby sleep in bed with me. A win-win. You’re welcome.