I didn't really have the intention of bed sharing with baby before the little fellow showed up. But my utter inability to get myself out of bed in the middle of the night beat out all the anxieties and concerns I had.
Now little Jake Ramsay is the merciless lord of his parents' bed. He never (rarely...well...only sometimes...) wakes up for extended periods, but he wakes up often to nurse and wakes me up even more often with fond little kicks to the stomach. Every morning as I get out of bed, I make some huge promise to myself involving sleep training. But as the day wears on and my bitterness at being woken up nine times a night wears off, I realize that I'm not so sleep deprived, and all my resolve is out the window.
We finally got him a real crib last week...which he sleeps in...about thirty percent of the time. It's mostly just the cage we put him in at 5:30 in the morning until he screechingly demands to be liberated.
The set up doesn't bother me so much. I cope by not believing any mom who says her baby sleeps through the night. That makes it a lot easier.
He's a decent napper. But he must be nursed, danced, or ergo-ed to sleep (as evidenced below.)
And for his naps - though he certainly would prefer it otherwise - he only gets fake parents.