On the day she turned six months, we kicked her out of our room. Ok, honestly, we made the decision a few months before that she would start sleeping in her own room once she hit six months and, despite all my my-baby-is-growing-up-too-fast cries, my husband and I decided to stick with our decision.
That night, we went through our bedtime routine and she fell asleep around 10pm, as she does most nights. I slowly walked her up the stairs to her room, careful not to walk too quickly or breath too loudly. I gently lowered her into her crib and then stood gazing down at her for several minutes before creeping out of her room and back down the stairs to climb into my own bed.
I triple checked the audio and visual monitor, convinced that she would wake at any moment and cry out for me. I just knew that she would realize I was in a different room from her and would wake up terrified that I had deserted her. I was prepped to leap out of bed and fly to her rescue at the sound of the tiniest cry.
My husband fell peacefully asleep beside me while I lay it the darkness, marveling over the strangeness of being in bed without the sound of her breathing or the glow of her nightlight. I checked the monitor again.
“One last glance before bed.” I told myself.
I told myself that nearly every half hour until the night was well underway and both my husband and my daughter had hours of quiet sleep while I lie awake. I finally fell asleep well past midnight, and even then, I slept lightly, ready for her cry.
When the cry finally sounded through the monitor, my eyes flew open and I stumbled out of bed to rush upstairs. Several thoughts stampeded through my brain.
I knew she would miss me!
Maybe we moved her to her own room too soon.
Oh no, she probably thinks I’ve abandoned her!
I pushed open the door of her room to find her content and laughing in the middle of her crib. I was sure I heard a cry through the monitor… but maybe it was a laugh? I stood looking at her for a moment, surprised she would be this happy so early in the morning.
It was then that I realized the sun was peeking through the blinds of her window. I glanced down at my watch and saw that it read 6:45 am. She slept through the night! My worry was for nothing. I heard my husband making coffee in the kitchen and going about his morning. My daughter let out a giggle. The day had officially begun, and I was the only one in the house that was still sleepy.