Sleepless in South Nashville

For the past two to three weeks, Jude and I have been blessed, as John Patrick consistently has been sleeping, in the nursery (a.k.a. "Men's Lounge"), from 9:30 p.m. to 6:45 a.m. All I have to do is talk to friends of mine with young children to reaffirm how lucky we are that he's such a good sleeper.

Recently, though, John Patrick has begun to roll over onto his left side, more and more often, while he sleeps. This makes me a little nervous, because when he manages to roll all the way over onto his side, he tends to mash his face into the mattress of his crib. Although I freely admit I am a worrier, sometime irrationally so, it concerns me that John Patrick might have difficultly breathing, if he plants his face firmly in the mattress and is unable to roll his head back away from it.

In fact, a girl I knew in college lost a baby to "SIDS" (sudden infant death syndrome), so it's not like it's one of those things I can look at it as something that happens to people I don't know. "SIDS" is real and I worry about it every night when we put John Patrick to bed, particularly since I've read that most cases occur in infants between the age of three months and one year.

Anyway, last night, about 12:45 a.m., I woke up and glanced at the video monitor we keep in bed with us. John Patrick was thrashing about and rolling onto his left side, using both of his arms to swing his body over. As a result, his face was pointed toward the mattress, not facing completely downward, but definitely angled in that directions.

Well, I got out of bed, tiptoed into the nursery, and spent the next 30 minutes rolling John Patrick onto his back. Each time I did so, he would thrash about with his eyes closed, never waking up, then roll back onto his left side. I became more and more frustrated, as I rolled him onto his back, only to have him roll back onto his left side, pressing his face into the mattress. It became a test of wills. Predictably, I lost.

Finally, against my better judgment, I tiptoed back into the bedroom and woke up Jude. I'm pretty sure she thought I was crazy and I know she thought I was overreacting. Still, she got out of bed, rubbed her eyes and followed me into the nursery (which, by the way, is the definition true love). There, she patiently moved John Patrick around in his crib until, at last, he was sleeping on his back, for the most part. By the time we got back into bed, it was approaching 2 a.m. and, of course, at that point, we couldn't fall asleep. When we got up this morning, we both were very, very tired.

I think, though, I've solved the problem. As I type this post, I'm sitting in the den, looking at John Patrick on the video monitor (Jude already is in bed). He's sleeping in his crib, carefully wedged in between two blockers that are designed to keep him from rolling over at night. I purchased them at Babies-R-Us this afternoon. Actually, I purchased two types, but we're going with the simpler of the two tonight, which seems to be working. He's sleeping better, which means I'll sleep better, which means, most importantly, Jude will sleep better.

Man, this parenting thing is scary sometimes.