Parenting
By Mia Thompson
Updated: Dec. 9, 2020
Originally Published: March 24, 2018
“My tummy hurts.”
“I can’t get to sleep.”
“Can you shut my closet door?”
“Can I snuggle with you tonight?”
If these phrases sound familiar, you’re definitely not alone—your child is not the only one struggling. It’s natural for kids to experience anxiety when separating from their parents, meeting new friends, or attending a sleepover for the first time. Typically, young children outgrow these phases, but not all do.
For some kids, sleepless nights, school absences, outbursts when leaving their parents, and reluctance to participate in sleepovers with friends become a regular occurrence. I wish I had recognized this earlier, but I thought the tantrums and fears were typical childhood behavior. It took a lot of sleepless nights and emotional turmoil before I finally realized that something more serious was affecting my daughter, Lily.
It’s a known fact that about 12% of children experience separation anxiety disorder before they turn 18. While that may not seem like a large percentage, it’s significant enough to warrant discussion and awareness among parents. Just like you know the signs of a common cold, there should be resources available to help identify anxiety in children and differentiate between normal fears and something more concerning. I regret not being aware of the warning signs earlier. It often felt like I was the only one dealing with these elusive sleep issues.
There was a time when I traveled for work a few days a week, and my absence was heartbreaking for both Lily and me. Each time I called home, I was met with a chorus of tears and pleas for me to return. My husband, Mark, was often overwhelmed, and mornings were chaotic when I was away. Guilt gnawed at me as I struggled to balance comforting Lily and encouraging her to go to school. I kept telling myself, “This too shall pass.”
Everything changed when Lily’s kindergarten teacher casually mentioned that my presence had eliminated her daily stomachaches. I was stunned—this was the first I was hearing of these issues. It became clear that Lily’s distress stemmed from fears about my safety while traveling. She lacked the words to articulate her worries, and Mark and I hadn’t asked the right questions.
As I spent more time at home, things improved; Lily felt secure and supported. However, her struggles didn’t entirely vanish. She began to shy away from playdates, expressing feelings of being trapped at school. Any disruption to her routine triggered intense emotional outbursts. She stopped participating in sleepovers and began to refuse sleep in her own bed.
It was baffling. One night, we thought it was just a bad dream, but soon it escalated to nightly checks of her room and closet for any potential threats. Her fears ranged from fires to kidnappers, and it was impossible to reason with her. Exhausted and desperate, we sought help from a counselor.
Despite our efforts, Lily’s anxiety manifested in physical symptoms like stomachaches and panic attacks about going to school. Mark struggled to see the reality of her fears, and the stress took its toll on our family dynamic. Our attempts to reason with her were futile. We tried allowing her to sleep with us, but that only led to more chaos and sleepless nights.
After some trial and error, our second counselor suggested we place an extra bed in Lily’s room so one of us could stay close without co-sleeping. This was a small but crucial step toward helping her reclaim her space. Eventually, we were able to return to our own bed, but not without waking up to her cries for comfort.
It became clear that our family was in a downward spiral of frustration and fatigue. We had exhausted all the typical sleep solutions—consistent bedtime routines, soothing baths, bedtime stories, and even gentle meditation apps. It was evident that Lily’s anxiety was beyond our scope to manage alone.
Our new therapist proved to be a breath of fresh air for Lily. She looked forward to their sessions and finally had someone to confide in. Slowly, we began implementing a more gradual approach to her bedtime routine. After our nightly rituals, we would sit in a chair in her room to maintain our presence without falling asleep. Over time, we transitioned to sitting in the hallway, gradually moving further away until we could return to our own room.
This therapist encouraged Lily to articulate her fears, which was a significant breakthrough. She learned to address her “What Ifs,” allowing us to help her navigate her worries. For instance, we explored scenarios involving fires or burglars and pinpointed the realities behind them. She also began to draw her fears, naming them, which helped create emotional distance.
Another effective strategy was recording a calming meditation using the therapist’s voice. Lily listened to this during tough nights, and gradually, we began to see progress. As she experienced good nights, she set goals for how many nights she could spend alone in her room, rewarding herself for her achievements. This newfound autonomy empowered her to take control of her fears.
In time, Lily conquered her sleep issues and even successfully attended a sleepover again. Recently, she returned from a three-week service trip, surrounded by strangers, with confidence and joy. It’s a testament to the resilience and strength she developed through this journey.
In summary, addressing childhood sleep issues can be a complex and emotional process, but with patience, understanding, and professional support, it is possible to break the cycle of anxiety. If you’re facing similar struggles, know that you’re not alone. Resources like American Pregnancy’s guide on donor insemination and the expertise found at Modern Family Blog can provide valuable insights. For those considering family planning options, you might also explore this at-home insemination kit.