First Night

What a day my little fella has had. He is sleeping in his Big Boy Bed, in his Big Boy Room, for the very first time.

It’s been a long time coming. We’ve been co-sleeping since birth and bed sharing since he was just a few months old. It worked wonders for us, although I know it isn’t for everyone. I still don’t mind bed sharing, but I think he’s ready… I hope he’s ready. I hope I’m ready. He and I both need to be, because baby sister is coming quickly and will be here before we know it. I need to reserve all of my night time nursing for her, if possible, and I certainly don’t want them waking the other up.

Still, this is hard. I don’t exactly think my emotions are completely hormone driven. I think I would feel this way regardless. I’ve been so excited for him. I still am. He’s been thrilled ever since we got the bed put together. So excited, in fact, that we had to bring his crib mattress to his new bed in his new room and let him lay on it to pretend to sleep. He’s told just about everyone he’s seen in the last two days that he has a Big Boy Bed. He’s so proud.

I’m so proud of him.

I wasn’t sure how to handle his first night, so I sat on the edge of the bed until he asked me to lay beside him. Quite the feat when you’re 7 months pregnant and in a twin bed with a guard rail, but I managed. I laid with him on his new Batman sheets, looking up at his freshly applied glowing stars, and let him select a book for me to read. He “read” two of them to me, meaning he recited what he knew and told me what was on the page, and then he asked me to read one of his favorites. I finished reading, then he asked for the Goodnight song from Daniel Tiger (the book we’d just finished), so I sang that over and over a few times until he asked for Bah. After a couple of minutes of that he unlatched, rolled over and was out. Three books, one song, a couple minutes of Bah and he was sound asleep in his Big Boy Bed.

Unafraid. No worries. Just sleepy and tired and wanting some rest. He’s comforted and warm and secure.

I don’t know if he’ll sleep through the night or not. I don’t know if I will either. I just know that I’m proud of him. I’m excited for him. And… well, I’m worrying.

What if he wakes during the night and is scared? What if the stars aren’t glowing enough or the night light isn’t bright enough? What if he forgets where he is and stumbles out of bed? What if he leaves his room and becomes confused? His automatic reaction when waking is to go to the living room to find me. What if he doesn’t think to go to my room? What if he gets lost in his state of sleep and panics? What if all of this happens and it makes him afraid to try sleeping in his Big Boy Bed in his Big Boy Room again?

What if he sleeps through the night? What if the stars glow plenty and the night light is just right? What if he remembers exactly where he is and slides out of bed? What if he goes right back to sleep? What if he goes to my room after the living room? What if he goes straight to my room first? What if he knows exactly where I am and what to do? What if he isn’t afraid at all? What if he wakes up during the night or in the morning and is so proud and excited and anxious to do it again tomorrow night?

Anxiety is a hideous beast.

What if tonight is the start of something wonderful for my brave and independent little fella?


I don’t know what tonight will bring in regards to his sleep. I just know that I am so proud of him. I am so proud of his excitement, his enthusiasm, his bravery, and his willingness to do something new and different and potentially scary.

He’s a few months shy of 3 and he’s so much braver than me.


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