Some milestones arrive with celebration. Others arrive quietly, leaving you standing in a room you suddenly don’t recognize.
This week, I officially transitioned my one year old daughter into her own bed.
It was emotional in a way I never expected.
Eris turns one on August 4, and since the day she was born, she has slept beside me. Co-sleeping was the right decision for our family. It’s a decision that isn’t always understood, but every family has to make the choices that work best for them, and this was ours.
It was also a very different experience from the one I had with my son.
By one month old, Phoenix was sleeping through the night. He rarely woke up, and when he did, it was simply to feed before drifting back to sleep. Even after he moved into his big boy bed at 18 months, he slept independently. Occasionally he would crawl into Mommy’s bed for a morning cuddle, especially while I was pregnant with Eris, but sleep was never something we struggled with.
Eris was different from the very beginning.
Although she was born weighing seven pounds, she was incredibly tiny. Even at one month old, newborn clothes were still too big for her.
Within her first two weeks of life, I knew something wasn’t right.
Every time I laid her flat on her back, she would gasp, cry, and scream. Not the typical newborn cry. It was an intense, heartbreaking scream that no parent ever wants to hear.
She had reflux.
Infant reflux can be incredibly overwhelming, especially when you don’t yet know what’s causing your baby so much discomfort. Watching your newborn cry in pain while feeling powerless to fix it is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
I quickly realized the only position that brought her relief was sleeping upright.
For nearly three months, I slept sitting up with her on my chest.
Those months were exhausting.
I was incredibly sleep deprived. Even after finding safer ways to keep her elevated, I was constantly watching her breathing, making sure her head stayed in the right position and that she never rolled into an unsafe posture.
Sleep wasn’t restful. It was survival.
Around four months old, once she began rolling over on her own, things slowly became easier.
By six months, she was comfortably sleeping beside me without many issues. Her reflux was still there, though. She would occasionally wake in the middle of the night crying because she needed to burp. Eventually, she learned to sit herself upright while half asleep, burp, and settle herself back down.
It amazed me every time.
Then came seven months.
She became a little mover.
She rolled, climbed, walked, stretched across the bed, and somehow managed to take up more space than two adults. I trusted her more physically, but emotionally I still wasn’t ready for her to sleep on her own. We were still breastfeeding, and nursing her back to sleep after a rough night was comforting for both of us.
Then something changed.
She started sleeping ten straight hours.
No middle of the night nursing.
No wake ups.
No reflux cries.
No burping.
She was ready.
I wasn’t sure if I was.
For twelve months, we had barely spent a night apart. Really, we’d been together since the day I found out I was pregnant. My body had been her home before my bed became her safe place.
Now it was time for her to have a space of her own.
Our first night looked almost exactly like every other bedtime.
Bath time.
Brushing teeth.
Fresh pajamas.
Her bedtime bottle.
Then both children climbed into their beds while we read bedtime stories together.
Normally, after story time, Eris would leave Phoenix’s room and come back into mine.
Not this night.
This night, she stayed.
When I walked toward the door, I could see the confusion on her face.
She looked at me as if to ask, “Why are you leaving?”
She cried.
I went back in, gently rubbed her back, and reminded her she was safe.
Her crib wasn’t unfamiliar. She had always played in it and taken naps there. She just had never spent the night.
I placed her favorite pillow, her lovey, and her blanket beside her. I wanted her to have familiar comforts even though Mommy’s bed wasn’t one of them.
Phoenix fell asleep almost immediately.
About twenty minutes later, so did Eris.
I quietly walked out of the room.
Closed the door.
Took one deep breath.
And burst into tears.
It caught me completely off guard.
For the first time since she was three months old, I took a shower without worrying that the sound of the water would wake her.
I washed my hair.
I combed it.
It was nearly one o’clock in the morning before I finally finished.
Then I did something else I hadn’t done in almost a year.
I watched anime while taking care of myself.
Something so simple suddenly felt like reclaiming a tiny piece of who I was before sleepless nights became normal.
At two in the morning, she woke up.
I walked in, gently rubbed her back, and she settled herself back to sleep.
At four o’clock, however, little Miss Princess Chaos decided she was ready to escape.
My husband went in first and tried comforting her, but she was not interested.
The moment he left, she stood right back up.
So I went in.
I laid beside Phoenix in his bed where she could see me.
I didn’t pick her up.
I just wanted her to know I was still there.
She looked over at me a few times.
Then quietly laid back down and fell asleep again.
I went back to my room and a few hours later, I woke up to get ready for a community event.
For the first time since Eris was born…
My bedroom belonged to me again.
There was no sound machine.
No tiny body pressed against mine.
No little hand reaching for me in her sleep.
It felt unfamiliar.
Peaceful.
Sad.
Beautiful.
It was the beginning of something new.
Later that morning, Eris slept until nine o’clock.
I watched her on the baby monitor while Phoenix happily started his day.
One of my biggest worries had been sharing a room. I wondered if one child would constantly wake the other or if their routines would be disrupted.
Instead, they were both adjusting in their own ways.
Just like we were.
Looking back now, I have absolutely no regrets about co-sleeping.
It was the right choice for us.
It gave my daughter comfort when she needed it most.
It allowed me to respond to her reflux quickly.
It helped us both survive a very difficult first year.
Now, it’s time for something different.
Not because she’s pushing me away.
But because she’s growing.
Watching your baby become a toddler is bittersweet. You spend months wishing for more sleep, more independence, and a little space to yourself. Then one day, it finally happens, and you realize you weren’t actually ready for it.
Every stage asks us to let go of a little more.
Last night, I let go of one more piece.
And while my heart aches just a little, it is also overflowing with pride.
Sleep well, my sweet girl.
I’m so proud of you, my Eris Azalea.
