In working with mothers who are concerned with their baby's wanting to sleep
with them, I have asked, "Where do you sleep?"
            "With my husband."
            "If you wake in the night and feel lonely or sad, what do you do?"
            "I put an arm out and snuggle up with my husband."
They know where I am going with this, and they begin to smile and anticipate
my questions.

            " Do you know how long a night is and where the light switch is
and that
              tomorrow is another day?'
            " Do you believe that if you were really distressed your husband
would wake
              up and assure you and comfort you? (This one gets mixed
answers)Would you
              for him?"
            "How old are you?  Your husband?  Your baby?"
            "Why should the smallest and least knowledgable of us be
expected to go it                alone in the night, while we big folks have
someone close?"

Now, I don't use this questioning with every mother.  If she is really
hostile to her baby it probably would seem like condescending talk, but most
of the mothers who talk with me about this are truly in love with their
babies and are listening to someone else who is WARNING them about the dire
consequences of "allowing your baby to sleep with you."  Or they have read a
book by an author whose name I don't like to pass my lips.

As for stories, my two daughters shared a bed after they left the family bed
bit by bit. They shared a room/bed until the first one went off to college.
We did have another bedroom, but they didn't want to use it.

When Lia was taking sewing in middle school she made a gift for Alison (four
years younger) and her friends asked,"You LIKE your sister?!!"  She was
puzzled by their shock. Then she said to me,  "I'll bet it's cause we sleep
together.  It's hard to stay mad at someone when you snuggle up with them at
night."

I have a theory that something happens during sleep to people who sleep
together or in close proximity.  Sort of like Willy Shake's, "Sleep that
knits up the raveled sleeve of care."  Our conscious mind is asleep, our
egos are asleep, but our positive human spirits are awake and eager to mend
our true connection with those whom we love.  It's not just physical rest
that makes cares seem lighter in the morning.  I believe that shared sleep
can strengthen bonds, heal us from our perceptions of isolation, and with
the touching, even heal us physically.

I liked James McKenna's point that we Americans believe that babies are too
attatched and must be pushed away at every opportunity; while Asians feel
that their babies come here unattatched and parents must do everything they
can to facilitate bonding, connection, to bring them into the family. And I
believe that many of the emotional ills of our American culture stem from a
deep sense of isolation.

Good luck on your 15 minute (!!) presentation.  We plant seeds.  We plant
seeds. And sometimes we give permission.

Pat Gima,IBCLC
Milwaukee