Night Terrors

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Abstract

fter a night terror.</p><p id="1342">Last night I whispered “shhh” and walked in that familiar pattern. He laid his big boy head down on my shoulder and I could feel the calmness coming over him. Thank goodness.</p><p id="e592">Last night was easy, we went back to sleep in my bed together and I held him, thankful that he wasn’t a baby anymore. Sometimes I miss that baby, but I don’t miss who I was back then so I tell myself that I don’t miss that baby. I tell myself we are better off now.</p><p id="09bf"><b>No babies allowed.</b></p><p id="259e">My now 8-year-old son had written that on a sign and taped it to his bedroom door when his brother (my youngest) was eighteen months old and he was five. He didn't like that baby stage much either.</p><p id="1534">No babies allowed. No sleepless nights allowed.</p><p id="3016">I don’t have to share my bed with any tiny people anymore, smelling their little faces and feeling my anxiety drop when that tiny baby closes his eyes again and forms a smile knowing their mommy is there with them.</p><p id="b3ad">I don't miss it when I don't think about it.</p><figure id="1536"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*c48FTU_wMhH20TqcTR_txw.jpeg"><figcaption>Photo by the author.</figcaption></figure><p id="6714">Thank you for reading. More of my work can be found <a href="https://medium.com/@alyeduncan">here</a>.</p><div id="c6a0" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/about-me-alexandra-duncan-e68f71ee4bb2"> <div> <di

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No Babies Allowed

Photo by the author.

Last night around midnight my 4-year-old woke up with a night terror. These are very rare now. He was thrashing about. He couldn’t hear me. He was very angry and maybe felt that he was in pain. He kept yelling at me, or someone.

He walked downstairs to my room and squished himself in between the toilet in my master bathroom and the wall. He sat there crying and yelling and he wouldn’t come to me for several minutes. He doesn’t remember any of it today. Night terrors are much worse than a nightmare for everyone involved.

When he was a baby, he had sleeping problems including mild sleep apnea and frequent night terrors. That plus a dairy intolerance and not being able to be held 24/7 led to sleep deprivation and frustration on both of our ends for almost two years. Thankfully things have improved.

Last night was a loud and unnecessary reminder of those baby days. I walked in a square on the living room rug holding my preschooler last night just like I did when he was 9 months old and 12 months old and 18 months old. It was a different house then, a different rug, but the same square pattern that I would walk. Corner to corner to corner, sometimes I would get lucky and it would only take 30–45 minutes to calm him down after a night terror.

Last night I whispered “shhh” and walked in that familiar pattern. He laid his big boy head down on my shoulder and I could feel the calmness coming over him. Thank goodness.

Last night was easy, we went back to sleep in my bed together and I held him, thankful that he wasn’t a baby anymore. Sometimes I miss that baby, but I don’t miss who I was back then so I tell myself that I don’t miss that baby. I tell myself we are better off now.

No babies allowed.

My now 8-year-old son had written that on a sign and taped it to his bedroom door when his brother (my youngest) was eighteen months old and he was five. He didn't like that baby stage much either.

No babies allowed. No sleepless nights allowed.

I don’t have to share my bed with any tiny people anymore, smelling their little faces and feeling my anxiety drop when that tiny baby closes his eyes again and forms a smile knowing their mommy is there with them.

I don't miss it when I don't think about it.

Photo by the author.

Thank you for reading. More of my work can be found here.