Beds are the best people

“You can take anything else you like but you're not taking my bed,” I told my ex as he moved out.

I honestly didn't care about the rest. The TV, couch, dining table, washing machine, take it all. Just not my bed. I would be fine, find a way to survive without it. The bed on the other hand I don't know how I would survive without that.

It's my safe place. A place of warmth, comfort, and stability I don't get anywhere else. It’s the place I've retreated to on my darkest days and curled up in after the brightest of days.

I remember as a child crawling into my parent's bed. Mum had this blue sheet and flower print quilt cover that was almost always was on her bed. I remember the softy bouncy mattress and the comforting smell that could only be found there. My childhood bed often felt cold and unsafe. I would long for the feeling and smell I only found in my parent's bed while frozen with fear at the other end of the house is mine. Tears would stream my face soaking my pillow as I tried to build up the courage to dash to my parent's room. It always seemed so far and dark for me to ever pull myself out of the frozen state I found myself in. Then my bedroom door would open. My eyes would widen with fear and the hair on my arms would stand up. Then a familiar sound would fill the room easing my fear. “you ok? want to sleep in my bed?” Came the most exciting words in my mother's voice. I would run to her, crawl in her bed, wrap myself in their warm quilt, breathing in the smell as I drifted off to sleep.

My bed has become that safe comforting place to my children my parent's bed was once to me It's where they find comfort when sick, after a nightmare, or for my middle child when her anxiety is high. These days my sons too old to crawl into my bed, but my two daughters are forever making their way to my bed.

When I was pregnant with my youngest I had Gestational Diabetes and unknown at the time anxiety that spiked my sugar levels that even with insulin it was never controlled. At 7 months I ended up with Polyhydramnios, where too much amniotic fluid is found in the womb. I was now a high-risk pregnancy. After being monitored in hospital I was induced at 36.6 weeks. On the day I was induced I was told of the risks. During the birth there needed to be an obstetrician and pediatrician in the room due to the high risk to both myself and my unborn daughter. I spent the whole labor in flight, fight, or freeze mode. Mostly freeze, frozen to the side of my hospital bed, the thing that gave me the most comfort.

I was convinced my body would just eject my baby at any time during one of my contractions with no warning. That's how my son (first) was born. During a contraction, my tummy just squeezed causing him to crown while no one was in the room but my partner and me. The midwives made it into the room just in time for the next uncontrollable tummy squeeze and his head was out. On the third he was born, no pushing. Of course, at the time my irrational brain remembered my son being born in one unexpected tummy squeeze. With every contraction came that tummy squeeze and every time I expected my daughter to be born. I wondered who would catch her? Looking around every surface of that maternity ward is hard and cold. The only soft landing was the mattress on my thin hospital bed.

Every time I had to walk around I would ensure never to be out of reach of my hospital bed. When on it I would curl up into a ball and image being it my bed. It was the one thing that gave me a small amount of comfort during this unpredictable time. The birth went fine. Much to my worries, she was caught by a midwife, happy, and healthy.

For the next 3 years and 9 months. My bed saw me through a lot. My darkest days and joyous times. During my darkest times, it never judged me like those around me. I never had to worry about a glance of annoyance look of concern or one that was an attempt of understanding. It just was there to see me through.

My anxiety didn't disappear after my daughter's birth. It got worse. Add a baby with her nights and days mixed up, trying to keep my business going, family issues, sick relatives, and a partner that become very absent stress and overwhelm were added to the mix. I would go onto have a few breakdowns due to the pressure on me and was always retreating to the place that reassured me, my bed.

It was my bed I retreated to when my partner took off to the middle of Australia with our 2 oldest while I was left home with our sick baby and wondered how I would pay the electricity bill due to the money he was spending while away.

After my 3rd breakdown and my doctor medicated me. I spend most of the next week in my bed while the medication worsened my anxiety. We had planned an interstate trip for a wedding and the anniversary of his grandmother's death. I couldn't even get myself to my wardrobe let alone another state. My partner became verbally abusive when I told him I would be able to go. I retreated back to my bed in shock and confusion. Wondering if I was the letdown or if he was. My bed held me no judging, no commenting who was in the wrong, just offering warmth and safety.

When my ex walked out Christmas 2018, leaving me a broke single mum wondering how I would even pay my bill's let alone get the kids back to school supplies I spent a lot of time on my bed going over the budget, brainstorming ideas, and googling how much I could get for my exes stuff he left behind

I went into lockdown and homeschooling kids at the same time my iron levels recorded an all-time low for me. Everything was a struggle and I found a greater love for my bed and realised I didn't need to follow everyone's advice to not work where you slept. I enjoyed it and it didn't affect anything.

It's from my bed I grew into the stronger independent woman I am today. Reading article after article on this and that. Learning so much about my ex, me, and how toxic my relationship had become. I then started expanding and growing myself even more. I read on money, business, and mindfulness. Learning and growing from my bed became my hobby that I'm not planning on giving up any time soon.

It's my favorite place to be and if anything can be done from my bed that's where it is done. Journalling, study, work, movie nights with my girls, beer while my girls shower after spending the afternoon at the beach.

My oldest daughter got me cheap imitation AirPods for Christmas. “I thought you would like them” she informed me “ you can use them when we (her sister & her) lie on your bed with you.” My 2 little shadows (daughters) often join me, my oldest bringing her iPad and the youngest uses my phone. The noise coming from devices on either side of you can be very annoying so she solved that problem. I guess this shows my girls aren't ready to give up the comfort of my bed just yet too.

Yes, I'm writing from my bed and if you're like me you will be reading this from yours.