The Long Goodbye

Someone wisely informed me, when I was pregnant, that motherhood is one big, long exercise in letting go. I am currently in the midst of that painful reality, as we’re attempting to get Safiyah out of our bed and into her crib – for good this time.

Yes, we’ve been down this road before. About six months ago, Ben and I successfully weaned Safiyah from our bed and had her sleeping in her crib. But then life happened, she relapsed, and I’ve been putting off re-training her until we moved to Indianapolis.

So, now we’re here and I’m all out of excuses of why tonight, just isn’t the night to quite let go.

As I prepared myself for the screams, the tears and the painful agony of forcing my child to cry-it-out, I realized and accepted that this is going to be much harder on me than it is on her.

I love cuddling with Safiyah’s warm little body at night. Safiyah, who loves to cuddle as much as her mommy, tucks herself tightly inside the arc of my body, reminding me of the days that I carried her within me – when her body was housed inside my own.

I try to remind myself that she, and I, will survive this. Soon, I tell myself, I will be SO happy to have my space, my bed and alone time with my husband back, that I will wonder what took me so long to kick her out!

But just when I thought that I had psyched myself up to withstand the inevitable, the screams began and my heart ached for her.

Why? I’m sure she wonders.
Why now?
We’ve had a good thing going for nearly a year and a half.
Why can’t I stay another year and a half?
Why do I have to be in here ALL ALONE, her cries seemed to ask.

She went back and forth like that throughout the night. She’d wake up, then cry herself back to sleep. Around 5:30 a.m., she woke up for a bottle. I was relieved to run in and give it to her. Unfortunately, however, this gave her false hope that it was time to return to that big familiar bed that she’s used to. So, she was understandably pissed when I returned her to her crib for the remainder of her night’s rest. She cried an exhausted whimper that revealed she was, in fact, still quite sleepy. But this time she even tried to “talk” her way out of the crib.

“Maaaa-maaaa”, she cried.
“Duber bahtigo!”

In Safiyah speak, 'duber' is diaper, so I knew where this was headed. Then, I distinctly heard the familiar sound of Velcro tabs being released.

No, I told myself. She’s baiting me – wants to lure me in with the threat of our famous diaper war. I decided not to bite. Moments later, she was asleep again.

A few hours later, I was awakened again by her cry. I looked at the clock - 8:30 a.m. She had made it through the night! When I finally allowed myself to answer her cry, my eyes confirmed what I thought my ears had heard.

In an act of sheer rebellion, she was waiting there in her crib – butt naked.
No footed sleeper, no diaper, butt naked.

Letting go is hard, but at least Safiyah is keeping it comical.