Every mom who bedshares believes, with her whole heart, that she is doing the right thing for her baby.
She’s been told it’s natural. She’s been reassured by relatives, friends, and strangers on social media who all say they did it—and their babies were fine. She’s been told about the “Safe Sleep 7,” that bedsharing is safe as long as mom breastfeeds, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t take drowsiness-inducing medication, isn’t under the influence, isn’t overweight, uses light blankets and minimal pillows, sleeps on a firm mattress, isn’t overtired, and on and on the list goes.
So many rules. So many variables. So many tiny details that could be overlooked. And if even one thing is off, a baby could die.
She’s been told it’s cruel to leave a baby “alone in a cold crib to cry.” She’s been told that other countries bedshare just fine. She’s been told the dangerous lie that bedsharing actually reduces SIDS because babies mimic their mother’s breathing. She’s been told it’s more dangerous not to bedshare, because an overtired mom trying to sit up to feed might fall asleep somewhere unsafe.
Most likely, she lies when the doctor asks if the baby sleeps alone—feeling sick to her stomach, wondering if the doctor suspects the truth and might call CPS.
Some moms even laugh or grow cocky on social media posts promoting safe sleep or warning about the dangers of bedsharing. They scoff at stories of bedsharing-related deaths.
“Don’t shame me for my choice for my child,” they say—while simultaneously shaming moms who follow safe sleep guidelines.
Some are cruel enough to look a grieving mother in the face and say, “IT WAS THE VACCINES!!!”
But most moms haven’t read about positional asphyxia—how an adult bed is too soft for a baby, even if it feels firm by adult standards.
Most moms haven’t heard that a baby can suffocate beneath their mother’s breast.
Most moms don’t want to consider that one night, just one of those “safe” variables might slip. That exhaustion might win. That they’ll think, it’s just one night—it won’t hurt.
Most moms don’t think about the reality that they will be an unconscious adult, weighing so much more than their baby. They don’t realize that suffocation is silent.
Most moms don’t imagine how completely helpless a baby is—that they cannot push away, roll over, or cry out. That a parent or sibling might roll. That an arm could drape over them. That a pillow or blanket could shift and cover their face.
Do you know how I know all of this?
Because I was that mom.
I had a family emergency. My two older children had a bad fall—right after a night I’d been drinking. I spent nearly 24 hours in the emergency room and then at a children’s hospital.
I didn’t think that one or two bottles of formula might affect how deeply my baby slept.
I didn’t think about how exhausted I was. Or how tired her dad was.
I had already been forced to sign a generic safe sleep agreement by a DCS caseworker. The hospital had made a protocol report because of my older children’s injuries. I had lied about where my baby slept anyway.
Tomorrow, I told myself. Tomorrow I’ll take the laundry out of the pack-n-play and move it into the bedroom so she can sleep there.
I was just so unbelievably tired. The caseworker wasn’t coming back until the next day. One more night won’t hurt, I told myself.
So I laid down, put my baby to the breast, and fell asleep.
When I woke up, there was blood on my shirt—blood coming from her nose.
I panicked. I remembered reading a story from another mom who lost her baby to bedsharing. She said she found her baby with blood and mucus coming from their nose. She said that when babies suffocate, the capillaries in their nose can burst.
Not me. Not my baby. It can’t be.
She would wake up if I picked her up to change her diaper…right?
She didn’t.
She was limp. Like a rag doll.
I remember crying and screaming, “No, no, no.” I remember my husband rushing into the room, asking what was wrong. “Abby…” was all I could choke out as I pointed.
I remember him yelling in my face, “THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T COSLEEP—DCS IS GOING TO TAKE OUR KIDS NOW!!!” I remember him screaming down the stairs for his mom’s phone, calling 911, attempting CPR.
I remember the EMTs arriving, trying to save her, then rushing her to the hospital.
I remember being questioned. Being driven to the police station. Being interrogated. I remember an officer taking my blood-stained shirt as evidence and handing me another one to wear.
I remember crying until my eyes were swollen shut, my face smeared with snot, my head pounding. I remember asking if I was going to be arrested.
I remember being told she didn’t make it.
Everything after that is a blur.
I truly believed I was doing the right thing for my baby. I had been reassured by countless moms in mom groups that it was safe.
I ignored the dangers—even though I’d been warned. Even though doctors and nurses had educated me about safe sleep. Even though my husband and I fought about it almost every night.
He’s not my husband anymore.
My other two children have since been adopted by another family.
I lost everything—because I took that risk.
So I ask every mom reading this who still bedshares, plans to bedshare, or is torn between bedsharing and safe sleep:
Do you really want to risk one tiny, uncontrollable variable killing your baby—a variable you cannot control because you will be asleep? Do you honestly believe you’ll beat the odds? Are you truly prepared to carry that grief and guilt for the rest of your life?
I wish I hadn’t taken that risk.
I wish I had listened.
Please listen to me. Please don’t let Abby’s death be in vain.
~ RIP Abigail Brooklynn Hensley
11/10/16 – 01/21/17 ~
