The Journey of Our Bed: A Reflection on Parenting

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It all started with a subtle message from him, gradually unfolding through our online chats. He began by expressing admiration, saying things like, “I LOVE the way YOU smile,” or “I LOVE spending time with YOU.” Then, one day, it transformed into the simple yet powerful phrase, “I LOVE YOU.” Our tiny dorm rooms became our sanctuary, where we spent countless hours listening to our favorite bands, Dave Matthews and Pearl Jam, while pretending to study on those notoriously uncomfortable twin beds. Our only concern was which of our roommates was absent, as being together, even in cramped quarters, was worth every moment.

He graduated a year before me, embarking on graduate school and moving into a dark walk-up on Main Street, surrounded by similar homes and a dingy bar known for its decent chicken wings. With our new lives outside the dorms, we upgraded to full-size beds, but the space felt empty when we were apart during the weekdays. I eagerly counted down the days until we could be together again, as weekends offered a glimpse into what our future could hold. I tried my hand at cooking, crafting dinners that included baked chicken and Campbell’s soup recipes, hoping to impress him. He dutifully ate my creations, knowing full well how much I enjoyed cooking, even though it would take years for him to confess his dislike for my baked dishes.

Sundays were always tough. The goodbyes were often tearful, filled with insecurities and jealousy. Maintaining a long-distance love required trust and compromise, a far cry from the effortless happiness we felt when we were together in our cozy twin beds. Now, we had the choice to cuddle or turn away in our larger beds.

When Keith proposed to me on a beach in North Carolina just before my graduation, saying “yes” was an easy decision. We were ready to become a true “we,” making joint decisions that encompassed both of our lives. We tied the knot in 1999, with him in his first year of podiatry school and me starting my teaching career. Our college bed remained with us for four more years until we bought our first home outside Atlanta, Georgia, when he began his residency. This was the moment we decided to invest in a queen-size bed. The extra space felt luxurious and comforting, providing a safe distance that also brought us closer together.

Being a united front meant sharing everything. Over the next five years, we painted walls, hung art, opened a joint bank account, and debated the merits of white versus colored lights for our Christmas tree. We balanced family holidays between our families and enjoyed quiet celebrations together. Then, our lives changed again when we welcomed our first child. Lying side by side in bed, we read about our baby’s weekly development, imagining our future family with our hands on my belly. Those moments were pure joy.

In an effort to keep our bed sacred, we tried co-sleeping with a co-sleeper, but our little one had other plans and would scream whenever laid flat. We attempted using a wedge pillow to help with feedings, yet quickly found ourselves sacrificing our bed for sleep. For the first three months, I didn’t sleep in our queen-size bed. Instead, Keith would set up pillows around me on the couch after late-night feedings, ensuring I could manage to move without waking our son.

When we had our second son, our old full-size bed found a new home in the nursery, as my husband’s patients needed his full attention during the night. I bounced between various beds for years, as our youngest didn’t sleep through the night until he turned five. Mornings often began with me feeling cramped from a child sprawled across me, making me nostalgic for the days when I shared a twin bed with my college sweetheart.

However, once you move beyond a twin bed, there’s no going back. Instead, beds seem to grow larger, mirroring the physical and emotional distance that comes with kids, responsibilities, and evolving dreams. After a decade of parenting and over twenty years together, we finally took the plunge and bought a king-size bed. Our first night in it felt revolutionary. I could stretch out freely, curl up, or lay flat without being touched. It also meant I could invite the kids to join us for cozy mornings or stormy nights, thanks to the ample space.

Having shared my life with Keith for so long, I realize that love is a daily choice. Marriage doesn’t guarantee security like a comfortable bed. Yet, I find solace in the sweetest moments when we both roll toward the center of our king-size bed to share a good morning kiss or a goodnight embrace.

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In summary, as we transition through life’s stages, our beds have evolved alongside us, reflecting the changes in our relationships, responsibilities, and ultimately, our family.