-Blessing Adedokun-Awojodu

Society has a way of badgering parents into second-guessing themselves. But let’s be real, God isn’t running a sloppy assembly line. When He hands you a child, He doesn’t forget to throw in the parental instincts, even if they sometimes feel like a defective user manual.  

There’s this relentless push to make children “independent” before they’re even ready, packaged under noble labels like agency, resilience, and training. But why the rush? Who exactly benefits from a newborn learning the art of solitary suffering?  

When I had my second child, I did what all diligent moms do–I placed him in his bassinet, as per the sacred medical scriptures. But the sleep was as fleeting as a politician’s promise. Every 30 minutes, like clockwork, he’d scream as if he had just realized he was alone in the universe. Sometimes he was hungry. Sometimes he wasn’t. Sometimes I diagnosed an invisible ailment. Other times, I simply accepted my fate. My eyes, once full of life, now bore the sunken glow of a woman on the brink.  

Each night, I followed the ritual: rock baby to sleep, lay him in the bassinet, collapse onto my pillow, only to be yanked back to consciousness minutes later. This continued for days until my body filed an official complaint. If you think parenting is tough, try it on zero sleep and let me know how your sanity holds up.  

Then came the breakdown. One morning, my mom called for a routine welfare check. That was all the permission my tear ducts needed. I sobbed. Loud, gasping wails between swallows of thick, miserable saliva. I hadn’t slept. I felt like an imposter in my own body. In that moment, I understood my newborn perfectly. I, too, wanted to be held and rocked until I drifted off.  

“Are you still putting him in the bassinet?” my mom asked, her voice calm, seasoned with wisdom.  

“Yes, now,” I replied, slightly offended. Did she think I was some old-school mom who would ‘sleep beside my baby’? I gasped. The nurses had been clear: “No co-sleeping.” I repeated this doctrine as if reciting sacred scripture.  

“Alright,” she said, “but why not try alternating? Some bassinet, some beside you. See what happens.”  

That night, desperate for a loophole in my sleep-deprivation sentence, I decided to test my mother’s theory. I cleared a tiny space between my husband and me, laid the baby down, and braced myself for another exhausting night. But instead of his usual protest, the baby just… slept. I watched him in shock. Hours later, I woke up, not to piercing cries, but to his gentle nuzzling for milk.  

After nursing, I dutifully placed him back in the bassinet. Twenty minutes later, he voiced his disapproval. I picked him up, sighed, and admitted defeat.  

By morning, both of us refused to leave the bed. My husband took one look at the new arrangement and silently vacated the space. And that, my friends, is how my son claimed his rightful place as my bed-sharer.

Blessing Adedokun-Awojodu is a doctoral student in Transdisciplinary Sustainability at Memorial University in Canada. Her research sits at the intersection of fashion, culture and sustainability. Blessing is a Fulbright alumna and CEO of Bimpe Gold Needles, a creative brand that blends eco-consciousness and cultural storytelling into fashion. As a pastime, Blessing shares thoughtful snippets from her parenting journal.