Respond with Sensitivity – Page 63

Falling Short

Last month I wrote about a sweet moment I had with Cole, when I responded to his cries, and did not allow him to cry it out. I wish I could say that was our “happily ever after,” regarding sleep with Cole, but it wasn’t.

I suspected a few hours after Cole’s birth that he might be a high needs/fussy baby. Within a few days, I knew we had our own high needs baby. One of the characteristics Cole displayed, was I could not put him down without him instantly starting to cry. This of course, carried over to sleep time as well.

For the first six or so months of Cole’s life, he literally slept ON me. I would lie down, and he would instantly fall asleep on me. Any other method I tried to get him to go to sleep resulted in intense screaming.

Needless to say, this was exhausting. I never slept that well with him on me, but at least this allowed me to doze and snooze, and was the better alternative to being up all night with a screaming baby. As Cole continued to grow, his laying on me was not working anymore. I knew it was time to come up with a different sleeping arrangement.

Having Cole sleep in the bed with us didn’t work. The moment we moved, he woke up and started crying. We were also getting midnight visits from Ryan too (who was three at the time), and he would just jump in the bed, half asleep. Obviously, this wasn’t a safe situation, because Ryan could have jumped on Cole and hurt him.

We finally decided to move Cole’s crib into our room, and place it next to our bed. At least he could still hear me breathe and would know I was near him, even though he wasn’t sleeping on me. I figured this was going to take some adjustment, but I was determined out of sheer desperation, to get Cole to sleep in his crib.

The first night, after nursing Cole, I placed him in the crib. I sat on the edge of my bed and patted his back, while I softly whispered to him. He fussed for about a minute, and then went to sleep. As I tried to leave the room, he would notice that my hand was no longer on his back, and he’d start crying. As long as I sat on the edge of the bed, haunched over the crib, with my hand on his back, he was fine and would sleep. Even after an hour, when I thought he had to be asleep, as soon as I took my hand off his back, the screaming started. After a few nights of this, Cole finally got to the point where I could get him to sleep, take my hand off his back, and leave the room.

The only thing that was predictable with Cole was he was unpredictable. Some nights he loved the crib and would fall asleep instantly, and other nights sleeping just didn’t happen – for him or for me. I would not be honest if I didn’t say that some nights I was so incredibly frustrated with Cole. I could not understand why my baby would not sleep, even though I was doing everything I could think of for him.

The nights I sat up with him in the living room at 1am, 2am, 3am, 4am, crying because I was beyond sleep deprived, were countless. My husband, Joe, helped out a lot too, despite having to be up every morning at 6am, so he could go to work. I honestly don’t know how he managed to only get a few hours of sleep, and then go for ten plus hours a day at work, with no naps. At least I was able to take a nap during the day.

Shortly before Cole turned one, we were having a particularly bad night. Nothing was working to get Cole to sleep, and he had been crying for hours. I was so incredibly frustrated, exhausted, and the end of my rope. I wanted to make Cole stop crying, so I could go to sleep. That exhausted and drained part of me wondered what would happen if I just gave him a shake to see if he would stop crying. Instantly, I felt like the worse mother on the earth.

Thank goodness that was just a fleeing thought that did not manifest itself, but it scared me. That night I put Cole in his crib, where he was safe, sat on the floor in the room and let him cry. I think that was the hardest night ever for me a mother, because I was totally out of options and was completely and utterly burned out.

After 30 minutes, Cole finally fell asleep. It was hard to listen to him cry, but in the state we were in, it was the only thing left to do. As I sat on the floor in his room, I thought about how close I had been to ‘losing’ it with Cole, and realized he was safe in his crib, and this is what we needed to do to get through the night.

After that night, it was still hit or miss with getting Cole to sleep, but around 18 months, it was like a switch just went off in him where he finally turned the corner. Instead of a baby who never slept, and was constantly waking up, he was sleeping, and staying asleep.

Cole just turned two, and his sleep issues are gone. I nurse him for a few minutes before bed, and then place him in the crib, still awake. He smiles at me, pulls me in for a hug, rolls over and goes to sleep on his own. It is a rare night now if he wakes up, not the rule. I never thought we would get to this point.

I thought long and hard about how to write this post, because having your baby cry-it-out, isn’t generally accepted as AP parenting. However, I wanted to be honest, and relay a true experience. I have realized for me that it is OK to admit that I am not a perfect mother, nor will I ever be. That doesn’t mean that I don’t try, but sometimes I fall short of the ideals that I want to raise my children with. When that happens, I have learned that it serves no useful purpose to beat myself up and tell myself I’m a bad mother.

Being the parent of a high needs baby tests you in ways you never dreamed of. Most of the time you pass the tests successfully. But, sometimes as any parent – high needs baby or not – can tell you, sometimes you don’t. Sometimes in the moment you do the best you can, so you can get through the day or the night. Then all you can do is continue on, learning from the experience.

If everyone practiced all the AP ideals all the time perfectly, we wouldn’t have much to write or talk about, and be able to offer support to others. “Failing” at an AP ideal, doesn’t make us “bad” or non-AP parents – it makes us human parents.

When we don’t parent quite the way we want to at times, it is disheartening, but it also is a good learning experience, and it helps us grow. These experiences help us grow into the kind of parents we want to be.

Senstivity strained by boundary pushing

Responding with sensitivity. Keeping everyone’s dignity in tact. Using positive reinforcement and active listening instead of punishment and negative reaction. All of these practices are something I firmly believe in. I believe children are incentivized to behave well when their needs are met, their work praised, and their failures patiently worked through, instead of harped on. I believe in teaching my children about consequences, instead of punishing them for their actions. I am a big believer in patient parenting.

And then I met six.

Six has strained my relationship with my daughter, my role as an attachment parent, and all my fancy new fangled parenting skills. How exactly does one parent with patience during daily doses of the following:

“Mom! Can we play on the playground?”

“I’m sorry honey but not today, it’s raining.”

“Awww… but I want to! Just for a minute?”

“No dear, the playground is all wet and we need to get in out of the rain.”

“I don’t mind if I get wet. I want to play on the playground.”

“I understand that you do, but the answer is no.”

“But I never get to play on the playground!!”

“Monkey, you have played on the playground every day this week. Today it is raining. We are not playing on the playground in the rain.”

“Can I just go see if the playground is wet before we go?”

“No, clearly the playground is wet if it is raining. We are not staying, we are getting in out of the rain.”

“But I won’t play on it, I just want to look at it!”

“Monkey, you have asked me at least five times, I have answered no each time. There will not be a change in my answer. If you ask me again I will have to take away a privilege. Do you understand me?”

eyerolling “Yes” sigh “I wish I could play on the playground.”

It is enough to drive all notions of attachment parenting right out the window. To make things worse, if I ask her a question she doesn’t want to answer, she will just pretend I never spoke. It has gotten to the point where both my husband and I will reassuringly say “It’s okay honey, I heard you, you did actually speak out loud.”

What is a parent to do? I am trying not to envision my child with ugly green horns and bulbous spots when this behavior rears its ugly head, but I go not have endless reserves of patience. I can’t just turn off all my feelings and not react, even though I know her behavior is developmental, that she is testing her individuality and my boundaries. I know she is not out to get me, but it’s hard to know that in the middle of an argument.

I thought I would share a few of the coping methods I have attempted to employ in staying calm in the face of her powerful persistence.

1. Hum The Girl from Ipanema in my head and imagine I am all alone in an elevator that no one, especially my arguing child, can get into.

2. Envision myself on a beach drinking an icy cold fru-fru drink while a massage therapist works all the argument caused knots out of my shoulder.

3. Remind myself that calm and consistent responses will make a strong and healthy child.

4. Take a deep breath and warn Monkey that she is about to make me very angry. “Honey, I am getting very frustrated, if this continues, I may yell at you.”

If those don’t work I try to forgive myself for yelling, and her for pushing. I also try to apologize for losing my cool, and explain to her why I did. I use I statements when doing so; “I am sorry I yelled, I was feeling like you weren’t listening to me, and that was frustrating for me.” Usually she will apologize too, and we will hug, and the day will go on. On really bad days, we just have a fight, and then I lock myself in the bathroom alone for twenty solid minutes (after hubby is home) and either: read a book, do my nails, or take a long hot shower so I can recover some of my resources.

What do you do to stay calm in the face of unbelievable, epic persistence? What techniques do you use to keep your cool and respond with sensitivity? I would love it if all of you would share your ideas with me in the comments. I think we can all parent more patiently if we have a larger arsenal to draw from.

Babywearer in Disguise

I’m the type of person that likes to be active about the things I am passionate about. In parenting spheres my passions include “extended” breastfeeding and carrying my child, usually in a sling. I remember when littlepixie was tiny, I used to get very excited whenever I saw anyone nursing an older baby in public, because it gave me hope during the first few difficult weeks, and I thought “well if they can do it so can I”.

It’s funny, when you’re pregnant, you smile at all the other pregnant women who seem to be everywhere. When you have your baby all bundled up in a wrap you seem to see slings all over the place. When you breastfeed you quickly recognise other breastfeeding pairs, the little hand stuffed down mum’s shirt, the new mum trying to undo her bra clasp, the way the baby is snuggling, a passerby might think the baby is asleep but you know he’s hard at work feeding.

I feel that by nursing my toddler in public, or carrying her in a funky wrap, maybe someone like me might see us and feel reassured, or maybe a pregnant woman might pass by and think “I’d love to do that” or indeed maybe nobody notices, and that’s cool too as littlepixie doesn’t care if she’s changing people’s minds, all she wants is milkies and to be up on her mama’s hip waving at all the people in town.

But the practicalities of life often intervene. Littlepixie doesn’t feed very often outside the house now, she prefers to be up on a chair eating big person food with the rest of us. But I make an effort to give an encouraging little smile to any nursing mamas I see on my travels, they may think I’m nuts, maybe we should have a secret sign, one nursing mama to another!

And we choose to be car-free, which means I use a stroller when I go to town with littlepixie, mostly to carry the groceries but also so she can nap on the bus. And when she’s not napping, she prefers to be walking. The wraps and Mei-Tais which were once so snuggly are now too constricting for this active bundle of joy who needs to jump down onto the grass right now! Which means that my beautiful slings, wraps and Mei-tais are usually left at home, apart from the ringsling, of course, which is always hiding somewhere on the stroller ready to do its job at a moment’s notice.

I guess what I’m saying is littlepixie is growing up and we’re entering a new phase in our family life, it’s so exciting. She’s over two stone now, that’s almost a quarter of my weight, so she’s getting heavy to carry! It may be coming close to my time to retire the “babywearer” label which I wear so happily, and instead to stick on a new “runs after crazy toddler” label. The good thing is my strong Scandinavian Mei Tais will be perfect for piggy back rides on daddy’s back when she’s bigger and once again realises the benefits to being carried on a long walk or a cross-country hike!

Is this a trial run for the day that we move on past our breastfeeding relationship? Is our good old reliable ringsling the same as that snuggly bedtime feed that no-one wants to let go of? If that’s the case, then I’m glad littlepixie is weaning me so gently and still claps her hands when she sees the ringsling, and still enjoys the occasional hip carry, usually when she really needs her mammy!

I am thankful that littlepixie loves to walk everywhere and I’m thankful that she’ll nap in the stroller, these things definitely make the gradual transition from “babywearing” to “running after crazy toddler” easier but a little part of me misses carrying her everywhere and that part of me wants a sticker for my stroller that says “Babywearer in Disguise“!

The Transformation of a High-Needs Child

For the entire first year of my son Leif’s life, I could not go anywhere or do anything without him. He did not want to be left with anyone, not even his dad. He would cry and scream and be generally miserable for however long I was gone. We found this out for the first time when he was 4 months old and I went with some friends to see a debate put on by two of my former teachers on a topic I was very interested in. I was so happy to have some time to myself again but my son didn’t feel the same way.

My husband said he first put him in the sling which Leif protested loudly over, then tried the Baby Bjorn carrier (my son’s favorite) and went for a walk. Usually, the outdoors would calm him down right away from whatever he was distressed about but not this time. I was gone exactly 4 hours and once he saw me, he was immediately better, overjoyed even. I tried just 2 more times that year to get a break and do something on my own for about an hour and the same thing happened. I just knew in my heart that for some reason, he needed me to be there for him and it wasn’t worth putting him through distress for no reason – he wasn’t ready or able to change yet.

Once he got a bit bigger, he still always wanted to be held. I was able to switch to wearing him on my back in an Ergo baby carrier which he loved and I was able to get more things done that way. He was happy, not screaming to be picked up and could see everything I was doing. I could talk to him about whatever was going on. We both were happy and Leif got the contact that he craved so much.

Now at four years old, I can see a big shift in his personality. Recently, we went to Santa Fe, NM on vacation for a week. Usually, Leif loves to travel and wants to stay and explore with us wherever we are. On this trip, by about day four, he started saying, “I want to go home, I want to see my friends.” Then in the next sentence he’d say, “No, I want to stay in Santa Fe!” He was clearly conflicted between missing his friends and the joys of traveling but my husband and I were so happy to hear that he missed other people so much.

Nowadays, Leif is happy to leave me in the morning and excited about going to preschool. He has been going for the past year and has formed strong bonds with both his teacher and some other children. This has been monumental for me to witness. All of that babywearing, co-sleeping, attending to his needs and working with his sensitive personality has paid off in spades and he’s only four years old!

Dr. Sears writes in his recent newsletter:

Therapists whose offices are filled with former high-need children who didn’t get responsive parenting tell us that most of their energy is spent in helping these persons get close to someone. These people have difficulty getting connected. They do not have the capacity for feeling close. Not so high-need children who are the product of high-giving parents. These children thrive on interpersonal relationships. Being connected is their norm. The AP infant is more likely to become the child who forms deep friendships with peers and the adult who enjoys deep intimacy with a mate. These are deep children, capable of deep relationships.

Leif still currently wants the security of sleeping in our room at night – but he only wants to sleep in his own bed next to ours – even on vacation. He is very clear about this. When we ask him if he’d like to try sleeping in his own room now, even with one of us in there with him he says, “No, maybe when I’m five.” As we’ve done with everything else so far, we don’t force him and work with where he’s at. I don’t mind him sleeping in our room, he has his own twin bed and he sleeps peacefully all night long (which means so do we!).

These small steps he is taking everyday moving towards his independence at his own pace leaves me feeling overjoyed at seeing his progress. I really believe that our following of the attachment parenting ideals especially at the beginning of his life is behind his sense of confidence and independence and general happy-go-lucky, loving way of being. He feels safe and secure in the world and knows he is loved very much.

Toddler Communication

When my daughter Erika was a baby, several of my new mom-friends were practicing sign language with their children, but I was never interested. I really couldn’t figure out what the benefit would be, as it didn’t seem to me that I had any trouble understanding what she was trying to communicate. She pointed at things she wanted, made gestures and vocalizations, and by the time she was 15 months old, used several words on a regular basis. Besides, we were already speaking two languages with her, and I wasn’t sure adding a third into the mix would be all that helpful.

Fast forward a couple of years, and we had a different situation with our son Karl. At fifteen months, he wasn’t using any words on a regular basis, and was screaming at the dinner table in frustration at his inability to express his needs. So I introduced sign language, which he embraced with enthusiasm. Within two days, he was regularly using one sign. Within a week, half a dozen. In a month, a dozen. He can now tell me about birds, dogs, motorcycles, cars, airplanes, and a variety of food-related desires. I find that our communication is indeed richer than what I experienced with my daughter at this age, and that I’m learning more about his thoughts than I would have otherwise.

For example, I had no idea that he anticipated seeing motorcycles at a particular place until the day he made the sign for motorcycle before their usual parking spot was even in view. And I was amazed the first time I put him down, seemingly asleep after a car ride, only to see him furiously signing for milk with his eyes tightly shut. I don’t regret not using sign language with my daughter, as I feel that it was the right decision for our family at the time. I also know other children Karl’s age whose interest in sign language is very limited, so it’s clear to me that his enthusiasm isn’t universal. But I’m certainly glad I paid attention to my son’s frustration and was aware of a tool that might help!

To wear, or not to wear… That is the question.

Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the occasional pains and backache of hefting a baby in a sling or carrier, or to endure the separation of stroller use, choosing a method of baby toting is something all parents have to do. That is, of course, unless you intend to never leave your house. So, in the realm of unasked for advice, I offer you my viewpoint on babywearing.

As indicated in my initial API post, I fell into attachment parenting by accident. It was not a carefully thought out parenting style, but more a response to my personal desires as a mother and the needs of my children. At my baby shower for my first child, I received the usual land-yacht sized stroller and a Baby Bjorn carrier. I also received a lovely handwoven sling from Guatemala. Oh, it was gorgeous. When Monkey arrived, I was eager to place her into the sling, but lacked the knowledge and confidence to tuck her into what amounted to a bolt of fabric tied around my body. Instead, I used the Baby Bjorn. After all, it had the appearance of something scientifically developed. It had straps, and latches, and padding! Clearly, it was safer than a simple piece of fabric held together with a knot!

The Bjorn kept Monkey close to me and it was ergonomically correct, but there was a great deal of material and padding between us, and it was unbelievably hot to wear in the summer, for both of us. It was also a lot of hassle to strap me, and then Monkey into it. Additionally, it was huge, and next to impossible to carry around without my car as I couldn’t fold it up and slip it into anything.

I tried to get Monkey into the sling after discovering the downsides to my baby wearing tool of choice, but by that time she was used to the Bjorn, and didn’t want anything to do with the sling. She just couldn’t get comfortable in it. I sold the lovely sling to a friend for her sister’s shower, and went looking for a cooler and more compact solution. Luckily I found a compact hip carrier from One Step Ahead. While it didn’t allow me to carry her on long hikes, as it rested her on my hip, it did allow me to hold her more often, and for longer periods of time, by allowing my arms to rest. It was also significantly cooler in hot weather. This was the tool I used until Monkey was about three. It slipped into my diaper bag, and later my purse, and allowed me some additional options when she was tired out and wanted a ride on Mommy.

It would be nearly six years before I had another baby, so I had plenty of time to study those instincts I had discovered with my first child and figure out ways to encourage them with my second. I looked into babywearing and discovered a number of benefits I hadn’t known about before. I learned that progesterone levels in mothers increase with physical contact with their babies, which increases the maternal bond between mother and child. I read that babies who are “worn” have a tendency to cry about 50% less than babies who aren’t. I learned that the sling, when worn correctly, can lower backache by more evenly distributing the baby’s weight. I discovered that slinging my baby would allow me to nurse on the go, and even tend to the needs of my eldest child with free hands. I also learned that baby wearing can help prevent hip dysplasia, by helping my child’s hip joints develop deeper sockets. I figured the least I could do was try to sling again when it came time to have Otter.

A good friend of mine made me a Ring Sling, and I put Otter in it within days of his birth. He stayed comfy in his sling. I wore him around the house, out in public, in the grocery store, the park, you name it. I was able to nurse him, even while walking around, because the sling positioned him perfectly for feeding and hid my breasts from view. I can’ tell you how many times I was able to prevent a meltdown during grocery shopping by nursing on the go. Best of all, I could still hold Monkey’s hand when we walked around, and I could play more with her because I had two hands free. I found other uses for the sling as well; I have used it as a last minute picnic blanket, a sunshade when driving in the summer or walking with the stroller, and to secure my baby into a chair as a makeshift high chair at restaurants (once he was old enough to sit on his own).

Otter still loves his sling. He is also a very cheerful, happy baby, who rarely cries. We have seen the benefits of slinging, and I will stick to it if I have any more children. Of course, Otter is over 30 pounds now, so I had to switch from a Ring Sling to a Mei Tai, in order to get some additional weight support when carrying him around. (The Mei Tai crosses over both shoulders, which is helpful in distributing the weight more evenly). The Mei Tai is still small enough to carry in a diaper bag, so I can have it whenever I need it, and it is still significantly cooler than the Baby Bjorn was. It also still allows for skin on skin contact, as there is no huge padded support structure between me and the baby. We have just started wearing Otter in the backpack position, and we both love it. I love feeling his little head snuggle into my back when we are walking, and he enjoys looking around and being close. We alternate between the sling and the mei tai now, depending on how much carrying there is likely to be.

So… To Wear!! That is my answer. Babywearing has turned me into a full-time snuggler, and I am happy to have my baby close whenever I can.

A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words

Our four year old, Eudora, was a fairly hands-on big sister while I was pregnant with our most recent addition. She practiced for her sister’s arrival by singing Happy Birthday Tummy and You Are My Sunshine to my bulging abdomen on a daily basis. I was the recipient of numerous belly rubs, belly pats, belly raspberries, and even some elaborate belly painting. Eudora excitedly participated in our visits with the midwife. We prepared her for our homebirth by reading books on the subject, showing her age-appropriate videos and photos of births and newborn babies, and having frank discussions about her concerns for my well-being. I allowed her to relax in the birthing pool with me at night before bed. We also did our best to prepare her for our Fifteen Day Babymoon— baby and I planned to remain in the room where I had given birth for 15 days in order to ease her transition into the world and to facilitate my recovery. What we hadn’t prepared for was Eudora’s reaction to the shift in priorities once our new baby was here.

Eudora helped her Daddy cut the cord after Mathilda was born, and she said a few memorable and clever things as she gave the new baby a once over. She seemed to be doing well with the whole thing. Over the next few days, she enthusiastically ran up and down stairs to provide me with fresh nappies, with clean blankets, or with refills on my ice water. She snuggled up with me and read books to the baby after pre-school each day. My husband and I patted ourselves on the back for having done such a terrific job preparing her and making time for her.

However, when Mathilda was a week old, Eudora came home from Montessori with this drawing:

That’s me in the orange. I’m the one with the all-the-better-to-eat-you-with-eyes, and the Where the Wild Things Are monster hands. Her Daddy and Big Brother are the tall ones in the background with tiny (powerless?) hands and weak smiles. Notice how she took the time to make sure it was obvious that I was in front of her Dad and Brother. Her Big Sister—who is a very important person in her daily life—isn’t even in the picture. A happy (and naked) Baby Mathilda is nearest to her Daddy. The sad little girl without a face is Eudora. She is nearest to me with her hand reaching out in my direction. But it is clear that she feels like I don’t see her and won’t connect with her.

The pregnancy, the appointments with the midwives, the homebirth, the babymoon were really all about me, no matter how much we tried to include her, Eudora had seen it as it really was. Instead of spending time doing things on her terms, we were insisting that she conveniently fit into our new agenda–sharing story time with baby, getting things for the baby, helping us take care of the baby. The family had re-prioritized and no one took the time to send Eudora the memo. We had made one of our most vulnerable members feel out of balance and unwelcome. This picture broke my heart and made me resolve to put our family back in balance.

We started by committing to re-establish her bedtime routines, even if we were bone weary. We enlisted the help of family and friends to do special things with Eudora. My husband made sure he took some extra time with her doing “big kids” stuff that babies weren’t able to do yet, like going on nature hikes. And most importantly, by the third week postpartum, I made a heroic effort to get myself dressed and ready despite having a new baby (and an uncooperative post-baby body). After our family breakfast, I was able to drive her to school and spend special time—just the two of us—in the car where we could sing silly songs together at the top of our lungs, and have poignant four-year-old discussions about volcanos, bugs, space travel and super-hero kittens. The best part of these mommy-daughter rides was all the time I got to spend stealing glances at her bright little face in the rear view mirror.

This is the picture that Eudora brought home just the other day:

She is wearing her baby sister in a sling. I am by her side and we both are holding flowers freshly picked from our yard. Our cat, Marjorie, sits at Eudora’s feet wearing a flower tucked behind her ear. At first this picture concerned me because we were robots. I was worried that she felt emotionless or indifferent. But Eudora explained that we were friendly robots like when she dressed up as “Robota” for Halloween. She also explained that she was holding my leg, instead of my hand since my hand had a flower in it. However, we are holding the flowers out and away from our bodies. This could be because we are generously giving them to someone we love or because we are holding them at arms distance to keep them–like Eudora’s emotions– from getting hurt again.

It’s only been six weeks, so we don’t expect her to be the world’s most well adjusted big sister quite yet, but at least we know that she appreciates our efforts to include her in ways that matter to her, not just ways that are helpful to us.

We just broke the news to her that one of her favorite people—her former nanny—is having a baby in December. We are already planning activities for the two of them to do together so that Eudora won’t feel abandoned or left out. I’m so grateful that I feel tuned in enough to listen to Eudora—even when her words are too complicated for her to express. Her pictures tell me everything I need to hear.

Following My Instincts

Originally published March 8, 2007 at A Mama’s Blog

Last night I had Cole down sleeping, and was trying to read Ryan a story to put him in bed (Joe wasn’t home), and sure enough, Cole started crying. I was hoping it would only last for a minute or so, and he would go back to sleep, but he started getting more and more upset. After a few minutes, it was obvious he was now fully awake, and despite having an upset three-year-old who was NOT happy his story was being interrupted, I had to leave Ryan to go attend to Cole.

It has been a week since I have started nursing Cole to sleep, and then putting him in his crib next to our bed. It is working a lot better than having him sleep in the bed, but he still wakes up a lot. So he was in his crib, and after my eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room, what I saw, just about broke my heart.

I don’t believe in “crying-it-out.” I firmly believe that when a baby is crying, he needs something. He may be scared, and just need the reassurance that his mama is still in the vicinity of the house. I certainly don’t think a couple of minutes when I can’t get to Cole is making him cry-it-out. I am talking about leaving him while he is crying in a crib, obviously distressed, for a long period of time. I just don’t have the stomach for it. For me, there is nothing worse than hearing your baby scream and cry for you, while they are in a dark room alone.

Plus there has been some research from Harvard and Yale, that has shown “when babies who are routinely separated from parents in a stressful way have abnormally high levels of the stress hormone and lower growth hormone levels. These imbalances inhibit the development of nerve tissue in the brain, suppress growth, and depress the immune system.”

This subject was also brought up on a recent Dr. Phil episode that featured three of the Dr. Sears’s. Dr. Bob Sears said this about crying-it-out on the show:

When a baby screams for 10, 20 minutes, or a half-hour night after night, what actually happens to the baby’s brain? The blood pressure goes up. The pressure gets so high, new blood with oxygen can’t flow into the brain. So the brain can be deprived of oxygen, you guys. And that’s not all. It gets worse. The brain can be flooded with stress hormones, and we know that stress hormones can damage sensitive developing nerve tissue. So, night after night, weeks and weeks of crying can actually harm a baby’s brain. That’s why we encourage you both to respond to your maternal intuition. Robert, develop your fatherly intuition, so you can both really thrive as a family. Respond to your baby.

So back to Cole. In the few minutes before I could get to him, he stood up in the crib, put his hands through the slots, and was feeling / squeezing my mattress. I knew he was trying to find me. Even though he is in his crib now, he knows where I sleep, and he was looking for me–he needed me.

I picked him up, and instantly the crying stopped. I sat down with him on the bed, and even though his eyes were closed, he started cooing. I nursed him for a few minutes to calm him down. Then the most amazing thing happened. His eyes were still closed, and he took his hand and started tracing and feeling my face, the way a blind person would. It was like he was trying to memorize my face by feel.

I am in awe of the way a baby’s brain works, and I think there is so much we still don’t know about this. As he was feeling my face, I got a tear in my eye, and I felt so grateful that I have been able to follow my instincts on what feels right.

I couldn’t help but think, as my sweet baby was stroking my face, first, if I had gone against my instincts and had allowed him to cry-it-out, yes, he may have curled up and gone to sleep, after it was clear to him that his mama wasn’t going to come to him, but the way it was going, he would have just become more and more upset. He would have been very distressed, and he was looking for me! Two, I would have completely missed this tender moment with him, that I will never forget.