Swaddling was one of those baby-things that I never thought much about prior to having a baby of my own. I figured that you wrap a baby in a blanket to keep them warm…and since they like being warm, they’ll stay wrapped up. Right?
When Little Oats was born, I realized quickly that there was a whole lot more to swaddling than just a quick wrap of a blanket. Little Oats loved to be wrapped up tight, and it often took more than one contraption to contain her. If she was ever flipping out or getting restless, a tight wrap in a blanket calmed her right down. We transitioned from oversized muslin blankets to the velcro SwaddleMe wraps, and then to a Halo sleep sack with a swaddle strap. They all worked equally well, and I loved snuggling my little burrito baby.
Even when she started to roll over, we avoided ditching the swaddle; she had never even attempted to roll in her crib. I secretly hoped that she would just love the swaddle for ages, and one day decide she was done with it. Do things ever work out like that? Not in my experience.
Fast forward about six months. Sleep training was going incredibly well; we were finally getting 5, 6, 7 hour stretches of sleep at night, and she was putting herself down no problem. Until THAT night. The night Mr. O went in flip on her humidifier, and found her face down in the corner of the crib, arms securely fastened to her sides, with no way of rolling back over or freeing herself. He described how his stomach dropped, convinced she had suffocated herself in the mattress, or hit her head as she rolled herself over. He snatched her up (waking her, and pissing her off to no end), checked her over, and sighed with relief.