Day 7: Lullaby Baby

After a series of thunderstorms within the past month, Hana has become more aware of the thunderstorm scare factor, whereas she was hardly even effected by it before.  In the past, midnight storm sirens were exciting and interesting.  From what Hana could understand, thunder, lightning and sirens were her ticket to spending an hour in the bathroom raiding the toilet paper and cotton balls.  However, something changed within the last month.  It was almost as if she began to realize fear, as opposed to staring it in the face with a sense of wonder and innocent awe.  

Since her realization of fear, we have encountered many sleepless nights.  Soon after the biggest storm, Hana began having night terrors, which are somewhat typical for toddlers to experience.  In addition to the night terrors, she adopted a fear of the dark.  It seems that the fear of the dark sparked other forms of anxiety.  She will no longer walk into a dark room alone.  "Scared" is a new word in her vocabulary, while it wasn't even an emotion within her understanding just a month ago.

As parents, we found ourselves wanting more than anything to remedy her feelings of anxiety.  One night, in an effort to comfort our scared, half asleep baby, we brought her into bed with us.  We quickly realized co-sleeping should never be introduced to a toddler!  So scrapped that and went for the traditional sleep ritual approach.  It seemed to work somewhat, but she really just seemed to be working on us.  Her sleep ritual became a game time, where she was the one in control of the situation.  

We were becoming desperate for a solution to Hana's sleep anxiety when I realized we were just putting band-aids on the boo-boo!  Hana's issue couldn't be solved with a new nightlight, sleep sounds machine, or favorite stuffed animal!  The route of her anxiety was insecurity.  In the same way that she learned to be afraid of the dark, she could learn to overcome her fear by facing it.  

We have started taking turns lulling Hana into a relaxed, peaceful state by praying for her aloud, scratching her back as she lays in her crib.  She needs that contact, but she also needs to sink into her bed rather than sinking into our arms.  After she's awake but on her way to sleep, I'll say to her, "I'm going to turn go turn on your music. Good night."  As I head into the living room to turn on her iTunes acoustic lullabies album, I'll hear her say, "Mama, night."  She is completely secure knowing that, although we are near, she can handle this on her own.