We did it. We finally broke down and let our daughter “cry it out”. I have, up until recently, been against the whole “crying it out” method and everything that it entails. I felt, for the longest time, that there truly was no need for us to place our daughter into her crib and let her cry until she fell asleep at night. She normally followed our normal bedtime routine with no problems. That is until all of the events in the last few months took place.
We moved, not just down the road or to the town over, we moved to another continent. We vacationed in America for nearly two months before making our finale trek to Germany from Japan. But I just knew, once we had moved and were settled that everything would go back to normal.
Or so I thought anyways.
Not even two months being in country and our daughter had a Febrile Seizure. We ended up having to stay in the hospital for three days. Where we slept in a tiny bed together and the co-sleeping seemed to have locked in. We came home and she acted like sleeping in her own bed was torturous. As if we were laying her in a bed of ice-cold water. She screamed, scrambling to get out, clinging to us like we were a life line. We couldn’t do it, we couldn’t leave her there so obviously afraid. As usual, my husband, swooped her up in his arms and brought her into bed with us. She immediately calmed down, turned over and went promptly to sleep. She acted as if nothing had passed and all was right in the world.
That is until the next night. It has continued this way for over a week now. Acting as if her bed some how possessed the means to destroy even the sweetest of her dreams. And like always my husband came to the rescue as my heart squeezed at her fearful screams. Thus began our research and discussions with family members. We were at a total loss. Everything we tried seemed to fail. We diffused our favorite sleepy-time oil blends, put on both her humidifier and her ocean sounds with her ocean themed night-light. I sang and rocked her to sleep before putting her to bed, we played with her before her bath time, we read her stories from her rather large children’s library. But everything was just a temporary band-aid. As soon as a rustle or creek was heard she would spring away! Those hot, fear-filled tears following close behind. Then, like clockwork, we would rush to her aid.
A never-ending cycle of hopeless, sleepless nights. Where I finally had to heed my mother’s suggestions. Let her cry it out. I missed sleeping close to my husband, feeling his strong body wrapped around mine. I liked sleeping in the middle of my bed and not at the edge. I love sleeping a full nights rest without a foot in the ribs or a butt in the face. I love our daughter. But with a heavy heart I had to follow my mom’s suggestions and that of our pediatrician. Last night we did it, we finally crossed over and let our daughter “cry it out”. She cried for one whole hour. One hour of agony as my husband and I lay, quietly and motionless in our bed listening to her soul drowning cries.
Eventually, with a slow hiccup or two our daughter finally relented and fell asleep. I sighed with relief and so did my husband. She was asleep, in her own bed, finally. For the first time in what has felt like months I got to lay beside my husband without the little body of our toddler between us. It was the best sleep either of us had gotten in a long while. And our daughter? She slept through the entire night, soundless in her own bed. Today for nap time? She didn’t fuss or fight me, she let me tuck her into her bed, turn on the ocean scenery and let me read her quietly to sleep. Another two hours of great, non-co-sleeping sleep for her. Two beautiful hours of a quite lunch time for Mommy.
“Crying it Out” worked for us. It was something I didn’t enjoy and each ragged scream from my daughter’s lips acted like tiny paper cuts on my heart.