What a different child Sophie is. M is nearly three years old and we are still battling over sleep. My heart spasms with fear when M wakes during the night, wondering if she will settle in ten minutes or two hours. She hates sleeping. Hates it. For naps she sometimes falls asleep in my arms screaming that she doesn’t want to sleep. When she wakes up two hours later she picks up right where she left off, as if she had never slept at all. Sleeping is admitting defeat.

But Sophie. My dear, sweet Sophie. Sleep comes to her like a calm, quiet fog rolling off the water. She welcomes it, embraces it. In the early days she would sleep anytime, anywhere. Then things got tricky for a while, especially in the evening. She wouldn’t sleep between the hours of 6 PM and midnight unless she was in someone’s arms. That finally started to ease up a little, and then naps went out the window. She didn’t stay asleep if I set her down. Okay, no biggie, I just wore her for naps, trusting that it would get easier. And even then it was easy, comparatively speaking. Getting M down for a nap at this age was an ordeal. I would put her in the Moby and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk. She refused to lay her head on my chest, looking all around and eventually dropping her head backwards and staring straight up, struggling to keep her eyes open. She would finally succumb, her head flopped away from me, and still I had to walk, waiting and biding my time before I dared to gently, so gently, lift her head up and onto me. And heaven forbid if I didn’t leap to my feet and bounce if she stirred, or else I risked the wrath of her roaring to wakefulness, tired and cranky and pissed off that she had been tricked into sleeping. And set her down? HA. HA. HA.

With Sophie I just put her in my new wrap and went about my business, doing dishes, tidying the house, taking M for a walk. Sleep came effortlessly and noiselessly; she cuddled against me and let it take her.

Almost two weeks ago she started sleeping through the night. Going down between 9 and 10 PM and waking between 6 and 7 AM. Nurse and then back to bed for another 3 hours. Astonishing, simply astonishing. I still get slack-jawed when I really think about it (although you wouldn’t believe how cranky I got on the one night she deviated … how quickly we become spoiled).

Over the weekend I emerged from my twice-weekly bath to find Mr. Gearhead sans Sophie. “Where is she?” I asked. “Well, she seemed really calm and quiet, so I put her in the Kanoe and left.” “You did what?” I sputtered, my mouth agape at his audacity. “I dunno,” he shrugged, “I haven’t heard anything out of her.” I stood there stunned while he walked down the hall and poked his head through the door of her room. He returned to me. “She’s out like a light.”

And so he has given me courage. I see her yawn (usually about an hour and a half after getting up), scoop her up, change her diaper, stick the binky in, drop her in the Kanoe, bounce it for a minute and walk out. As in, I leave the room. And then … she goes to sleep. She usually wakes 30-40 minutes later. I go back in the room, re-bink her, bounce the Kanoe and leave again. And she goes back to sleep, usually for an hour or more. Sometimes I can repeat this and get another hour.

Astonishing. Simply astonishing.

At first I would tense whenever she stirred or if I did something to wake her. I would feel that anxiety in my heart, my chest tight and unyielding. But now I am learning I don’t need to have that fear. She doesn’t hate or fear sleep … she welcomes it, wants it, and is grateful when I provide the opportunity to do it. It is such a simple thing, really, and I still don’t understand why it’s so damn hard with M. My baby sleeps when she is tired and is awake when she isn’t. In fact, in the course of writing this post I have tended to her three times. The last time she wouldn’t settle, so I picked her up and changed her diaper. She fussed a bit and farted a few times. I picked her up off the changing table and she rested her head on my chest and fell back to sleep. After a few minutes I set her back in the Kanoe, and here I am, typing again - with two hands! But I know oh so well that it isn’t always like this. That it often isn’t like this.

It is such a relief to let that fear and anxiety slide away, for my life not to be ruled by the constant need to get my baby asleep and keep her that way. Especially since I have a toddler to care for as well. I cannot imagine the stress of parenting a baby like M and a toddler like M, all at the same time.

I don’t know who or what made Sophie this way. I just wanted to thank the Universe for it. I am eternally grateful.