then and now

Before I actually had a baby, I had all these ideas about the way I -- no, we -- would do things. No pacifiers. We would Ferberize. And bed would always, always be her own crib. No way was our baby sleeping in our bed; she would know that was Mommy and Daddy's space alone. In short, we would love our child dearly, but we were not going to rearrange our lives for her. No child of mine would grow up thinking she's the center of the universe.
And then the baby came.
We'd been in the hospital not 24 hours when Jake decided the only way any of us would get sleep was if Ghoulie slept on the tiny pull-out chair/bed with him, all swaddled and propped up on the pillow (her swaddled and propped, not him). I kept worrying the nurse would come in and yell at us for having her out of her bassinet. What if he rolled over on her? What if she fell? But it was the only option. For some reason, Ghoulie refused to sleep alone in her stark, cold bassinet. Imagine.
We had just barely established breastfeeding when, one night, Ghoulie wanted to nurse and nurse and nurse. Except that she wasn't acting hungry -- in fact, as soon as she got any milk in her mouth, she would jerk her head away hard. Without unlatching. But she was happy when we offerred her a knuckle to suck on. Except that it was midnight, and we were tired. That's why, at 12:30 am, Jake found himself downstairs, boiling all the pacifiers we were not going to use.
As for crying herself to sleep? Forget it. Couldn't do it in a million years. Nor would I want to, now. (Thank God for validation from Dr. Sears!)
So now, most mornings, Ghoulie awakens to find herself in "Mommy and Daddy's space," pacifier beside her (wherever it fell out when she went to sleep), while we stare at her in awe. She pretty much thinks she's the center of the universe. And I wouldn't want it any other way.
Seems to be working out all right, doesn't it? See for yourself: