So, it has finally happened and I am bereft at some points and yet oddly vacant at others. Yes, the first of many fissures in the mother-child bond has occured...Winston is in his own room, in his own bed.
No longer is my baby boy sleeping next to me. In fact, for the first time in over two years he is neither inside me nor beside me all night long. No longer can I either feel or hear his rustling sleepy movements. No longer can I listen to his breathing when sleep eludes me. No longer can I merely run my hands over my belly or glance over to the crib right next to my side of the bed to see, to know, that he is well, happy, secure and soundly sleeping.
Of course, on the other hand, no longer am I awakened at 3, 4, 5 a.m to his plaintive cries of "Mama. Mama. Up. Up." And no longer do I succumb and drag him into bed with me so that he can sleep sprawled across my chest, elbow wedged into my adam's apple, snoring contentedly while I lay there vainly trying to breathe. For hours.
But still, all in all, it is a loss. And as his his nature, he took to the change easily and happily. No fuss, no muss is Winston's motto in life. That very first night he merely settled himself down to bed in his new room as though he had been doing it all his little life. No fears, no apprehensions - just time to sleep, thank you very much and see you in the morning Mama. I on the other hand curled up in my own bed crying, missing my boy, my beautiful little boy who had, until then, never ever been apart from me before at night.
And so begins his long voyage through life seperate from me. I'm sure it doesn't help that he has also decided to wean at precisely the same moment as he gained his night time autonomy. My boy. No fuss, no muss for him, maybe - but Mama is missing her boy right now.
Sleep tight little one. Mama loves you.