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Bringing a new baby into our home felt like removing the wrong piece from a Jenga tower — and I was far from ready for the consequences.
A piercing cry from the newborn pulled me from slumber. As I turned toward the bassinet, I realized I was wedged between my son on one side and my daughter on the other. Their warm, tangled limbs had always been a source of comfort, especially at night. Yet, with the arrival of my third child last July, I quickly recognized that our sleep dynamics required a major shift. Having three kids felt exponentially more challenging than just two, especially in the midst of a seemingly unending pandemic, and caring for an infant in my mid-30s drained my energy far more than it had in my earlier years.
For a long time, our two oldest children managed to fall asleep in their own beds, but with a couple of important conditions: we would lie down with them until they drifted off, and if they woke during the night, they were welcome in our bed. Some nights, this was the only time my husband could connect with them after a long workday. Other nights, I found myself texting friends in frustration as the hours slipped by.
Discussions about sleep choices can be deeply personal, and parents often approach these conversations cautiously, striving to avoid judgment. I never intended to adhere to any strict parenting philosophy; co-sleeping and room-sharing simply made sense for us at the time. Naptime with my first two children was a mix of bonding and tests of patience, often involving me desperately trying to keep my toddler quiet while nursing her baby brother. But as they grew and napping faded away, our sleep arrangements solidified into a comfortable routine. I was unprepared for how adding a new baby would disrupt that balance.
The arrival of our fifth family member brought two major challenges: our king-sized bed no longer had space for anyone to join us comfortably, and the pandemic meant I would often be alone at home with all three children. I wanted to be present for my older kids, who had already lost so much during this time. I couldn’t bear the thought of taking away even more of my attention from them. As I nursed and rocked the baby upstairs, anxiety bubbled within me as I heard the noise and quarrels from below. I craved the joy of playing outside, laughing together, and simply connecting with them. They needed a mom who could say “yes” again.
Nighttime proved to be even more chaotic. Once the baby finally dozed off, I often had just enough time for one bedtime story before another round of cries echoed from the hallway. This cycle continued throughout the night, with waking hours spent nursing, rocking, and soothing. Meanwhile, my older two were still trying to sneak into our bed, mourning the loss of their snuggle time. Clearly, no one in the house was getting the rest they required, and the situation had become unsustainable. After consulting with our pediatrician, who assured me the baby could go longer between feeds, I knew I had to explore new strategies.
That’s when I stumbled upon sleep consultants. Initially, I had dismissed the idea of sleep training entirely. I was surprised to learn that these professionals offer tailored plans and personalized guidance. While scrolling through Instagram during a nursing session, I found an inspiring account run by a woman named Sarah. “Wait, babies have different sleep cycles than we do?” I thought, intrigued. Why hadn’t this been discussed at our pediatrician visits? Typically, those checkups revolved around questions like, “How many hours is the baby sleeping?” or “Are they sleeping on their back on a firm surface?” I would often answer yes, too exhausted and guilt-ridden to admit that the only way my baby would sleep was on my chest.
After some coaching, I was ready to try laying my baby down awake for the first time. Through a process of trial and error, I achieved something I had never thought possible: one of my babies fell asleep independently after a brief period of fussing. It turns out that the term “sleep training” doesn’t fit my approach well. I prefer what Sarah refers to as “sleep coaching,” or what I’ve come to see as sleep learning—a respectful, collaborative journey between caregiver and baby. I discovered that I could manage this. I didn’t have to let anxiety control our home, nor did I need to neglect my other children or my responsibilities to focus solely on the baby’s sleep. Most importantly, establishing a structured sleep schedule restored something I thought the pandemic had taken from us: routine, predictability, and a greater capacity for patience.
For more insights on parenting and sleep, check out this blog that discusses similar experiences. If you’re on a fertility journey, you might also find valuable resources at Make a Mom, which is an authority on the subject. Additionally, for useful information about pregnancy, visit Womens Health.
Related Search Queries
- How to sleep train a newborn
- Best sleep practices for toddlers
- Tips for co-sleeping
- Managing sleep schedules with multiple kids
- Parenting tips during pregnancy
In summary, my experience with sleep training transformed dramatically with the arrival of my third child. Facing the challenges of a larger family and the ongoing pandemic, I learned to embrace a new, collaborative approach to sleep that benefited both my baby and my older children. By finding balance and establishing a structured routine, I was able to reconnect with my family and reclaim some much-needed peace at home.
Keyphrase: Sleep training approach evolution
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