Sorting Through It in San Francisco
On cosleeping, contact-napping, and what we lose ❤️🩹
She had a Snoo and full-time nanny lined up and ready to go. But to her shock, she never used them once.
DANIELLE (late-20s) was a former professional ballet dancer, living in a small apartment in San Francisco with her husband and 7 month old. She hadn’t planned on giving up her career after becoming a mom — she had a Snoo and full-time nanny lined up and ready to go. But to her shock, she never used them once.
This is a story from the afternoon I met her.
I buzzed in and made my way up the three-floor walk up. Danielle1 was waiting at the open door, baby on her hip. I already knew she was a dancer, but wow. There was no question about it, with a posture and grace that reminded me of Audrey Hepburn. She was striking.
We spent a few minutes getting to know one another in the entryway. This one-bedroom apartment was extremely small and packed into a busy street in downtown San Francisco. Of course, similar to all of the homes I visit, this one was overtaken by the baby. A bouncer in the corner, high chair at the table, books, a playmat, and piles of just-folded cloth diapers on the sofa.
She shuffled them over, to make space for us to sit. We settled in and began talking about her upcoming trip to New York. “My husband is a performer, as well, and he was just cast in a show in New York. Baby and I are going with him for a few weeks.”
I pulled out my laptop to look at the hotel they’d be staying in. What kind of beds, room layout, etc. would she be dealing with? The main reason she wanted to work with me was because of this hotel stay, I thought.
But then the real thing came out, as it always does.
“The Ballet was my life,” she said. “It was everything to me. At times, more important to me than my family or friends, even my husband. I knew it was terrible, but honestly I didn’t care. My career came first.”
She looked at her baby, sitting on my lap. “And now, I don’t care about it in the same way… Or really at all.” She said she absolutely loved staying home and bedsharing and contact napping all day. But she did not recognize herself in the mirror.
“And so I resigned. Or, retired, I guess. Just a few weeks after he was born.”
She tried to say it lightly, but I could hear the tremor in her voice. This was a deep wound. I knew it because I had it, too.
“I gave up a previous version of myself, too.”
I told her that before I was a mom, I was an actor in Los Angeles. I, too, had made a number of sacrifices – including my personal relationships.
I worked hard in school to get to Los Angeles to make my childhood dream come true. UCLA, unpaid internships, improv shows where my knees buckled. Years of starting and stopping acting programs, depending on if I could pay for them. I traded “UCLA-worthy” jobs for the ones that could be dropped the minute I got an audition – ones walking other people’s dogs and delivering their lunch.
“The hustle,” Danielle said quietly. “I get that.”
I told her about the day I got the call to be assistant to Sir Anthony Hopkins, how it felt like the beginning of my life.
“But, then, it wasn’t too long before I became a mom.” I said. She was quiet, probably, because she knew exactly what that meant. And how storytime was over.
“I am glad I left my career after becoming a mom. And, I am disappointed in myself for leaving my career after becoming a mom,” I said.
In my postpartum haze, I couldn’t wrap my head around being a working actor and a mom — this specific kind of mom, at least.
“I wasn’t just any mom — but a cosleeping, babywearing, contact-napping, nursing-on-demand mom!” I said. She nodded the whole time. “I genuinely love these things! But they could not coexist with my old life.”
We moved to the kitchen table so she could make us coffee.
“What would I tell my old classmates, coworkers and costars, and Sir Tony himself?” I asked her. “What – that I threw everything away so I could stay home so my baby could nap on my chest?!”
She laughed hard at that. I mentally noted that I was talking way more than usual at these consultations, but it seemed to be opening her up.
I told her that I can’t watch the Oscars anymore.
And it was my favorite night of the whole year! I’d invite my actor friends over, we’d eat and drink a bag of goods from Trader Joe’s, we’d fill out ballots guessing the winners. We’d cry during the emotional acceptance speeches, and we genuinely believed we’d be there one day.
“Not necessarily on the stage, accepting an award — but at least in the room.” I laughed. “We belonged in this business. And we could deal with another difficult year of trying to make it in LA as an actor. We wouldn’t give up.”
She started crying. “I can’t walk by the ballet anymore. I literally can’t go down that whole block.”
She spoon-fed her baby applesauce as she wiped her eyes, in the automatic way that moms do. I was mostly quiet then. I didn’t have a pretty bow to put on this conversation. But I’ve found that saying these hard things out loud to someone who understands – really understands – is a balm.
“I think it’s going to take a while for the both of us to process this,” I ventured. “I think motherhood is so big and life-changing that it’s okay to take our time adjusting to it and sorting through the pain.”
We eventually got up and made our way to the family bedroom. She nursed the baby to sleep on the bed as I walked around to safety-proof the room. The little guy was mobilizing quickly, and they would need to ensure the whole room was safe.
We talked about her upcoming hotel stay that afternoon, as well, but the part that really mattered had already happened.
Would you like a virtual or in-person consultation with me in May?
Danielle’s 3 favorite cosleeping tools:
🙌 This travel crib has proven to be a life-saver at home and on trips
🖤 These soft and stretchy jersey pajamas
🚇 This baby carrier is how she and baby navigate the light rail system on their daily adventures
A few new tools I gave her following our day together:
🗺️ My Travel Guide for her to safety-proof her New York hotel room
🩰 Pink gripper slippers that reminded me of pink ballet shoes
💍 Breakfast at Tiffany’s on blu-ray (somehow she had never seen it!)
Tiffany Belanger is a forthcoming author, speaker, and founder of Cosleepy.com — the one-stop shop for practical, research-backed advice on safe bedsharing. She is frequently interviewed by the media as an expert and representative of the educated, Millennial parent who has decided to go against the standard advice. She lives and cosleeps with her husband and two little boys in northern California.
Apply to work with her here.
Names and identifying information have been changed. Story shared with permission.