Adventures of a Postpartum Mother - Episode 2

“Mom, I need to pee.”

It’s just not fair.

We’re in the bathroom, my toddler undressing to get into the bath while I try to fit in a toilet trip between caring for the baby. The scene feels all too familiar. 

Just before this child before me had been born, my then youngest (second child) had decided he wanted to start using the toilet. I had embraced it, even though it ultimately meant helping to wipe a poopy bottom while nursing a newborn. It was worth the toil, as that child ended up being my easiest to potty train and we dealt with very few accidents, making the terrible timing more worth it.

It was happening again.

The difference was that this time, before this baby, we had tried to convince child #3 that using the toilet was a desirable situation, and considering that he was a whole year older than what child #2 had been when he potty trained, didn’t think we were suggesting anything unreasonable.

“But I will fall in,” he had continually insisted.

Until now.

Now I sit, squatting over the toilet, attempting to have my first postpartum dump (and trying to give myself all the time that that requires), and the toddler decides now that he wants to use the toilet.

Why me?

“You need to pee?” I repeat, trying to delay my inevitable early departure from the facilities. Mercifully, I do manage to get something out.

“Yeeeees,” he whines impatiently. 

I quickly finish up business, and get out of his way, managing to drip blood on the floor in my haste. As soon as I do, he says, “Actually, I don’t.”

“You don’t?”

“Actually, I can’t.”

“You can’t? Honey, we can lift the seat up-“

“No, it’s fine,” he says, busying himself flushing what I had managed to release. 

I watch in stunned amazement, disbelieving the ill-timed request. Oh well, there’ll be another time, right?

My other child calls, “Mom, the baby needs you.”

Right.

The next morning the toddler informs me, “Mom, I went pee in the toilet after I got out of the bath!”

Dreams do come true.

Adventures of a Postpartum Mother - Episode 1

It’s raining. 

Not just a light sprinkle either. The downpour means that the slow casual setting on my windshield wipers isn’t cutting it. I have to use the annoying speed setting. At least the sound of the rain is drowning out the squeaking. That, or there’s so much rain the wipers aren’t squeaking. Who knows.

The rain wasn’t this bad when I left. Then, it had been light enough that my husband had carried the car seat out to the car for me. 

“Thanks.” I had thanked him. “I probably would have wet myself if I had carried it out,” I had tried to joke (but had been completely serious).

“Wet yourself?” He obviously had been confused at my attempt at humor. Oh that’s right. The presence of his Y chromosome means that he will never experience the joy of a human passing through your body and the loss of bladder control that follows. Nor, being the hygienic and private person my husband is, would he really want to hear about anyone else having any sort of issue like that.

Oh well. “Yes, wet myself.” I had confirmed, and then climbed into the driver’s seat and shut the door before I could further embarrass myself.

The baby and I were headed to the pediatrician to do the tests that my midwife hadn’t done. Which, considering that this midwife was even more hands-off than the average midwife, meant needing pretty much everything. A hearing test and the PKU was the short list of things I planned to have done. I assumed there would be no reason I couldn’t get those done today. I assumed incorrectly.

Because of the illness I had sustained immediately previous to my birth (which had partially contributed to my subsequently giving birth 10 days after my “due” date - honestly, next time I’m giving people my 42 week date as my due date, that more accurately fits the definition of that word), I wasn’t allowed to enter the building through the main entrance and had to call to have them let me in through the side.

They had said something about calling the appointment line. I had hoped there would be a sign posted with the number to call, but no such luck. So I try to look up the number and dial. 

The first number I try, the lady asks who I was trying to see. I couldn’t remember the doctor’s name, and she transferred my call. That took me to the line for the office at their other location (according to the listen-while-you-wait recording) and I hung up before anyone answered. Returning to my google search I saw I hadn’t been specific enough. Adding my location, I started the process all over again. This time when they answer, we got as far as me asking if this was the right number, when my cheek decided to press the FaceTime button on my phone, which disconnected the call.

I’m so done with this visit and I haven’t even gotten inside. 

For the third time I call and finally end the conversation with directions for heading inside. 

Mind you, it’s still raining (not too bad at this point), and I try to decide the best way to go in. I’m averse to carrying car seats even when I have bladder control, so I go to the side and get the baby out of her seat. Not having a better place to be, I bring her back to the driver’s seat to sit while we wait for the nurse to let us in. I sit there trying to decide if I should try to move to the passenger side so I don’t look as suspicious when the nurse finally calls us in. The rain decides at this exact moment to fall harder and without another option I throw a blanket over the baby’s head and hurry inside. She lets me know she is less than thrilled about this.

Once inside I remove the blanket and follow the nurse to the examination room. In there the nurse asks if I brought any papers.

“Papers?” I repeat, giving her a confused look.

“Yeah, papers, you know, with information about the height and weight, and other things,” she describes, as though that should clear everything up.

“No, I don’t have papers.”

“You had a homebirth?” She questions. That would explain my lack of documentation.

“Yes, I had a homebirth.” 

“And did your midwife write anything down…”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t bring it.” 

“Do you know the baby’s birth weight?” 

“Yes.” I give it to her.

“Okay. Strip her down and the doctor will be right in.”

Sheesh. Ain’t nothing like going against the grain to make medical professionals treat you like you’re some other species. The doctor, on the other hand, is completely flustered and doesn’t know what to do with me when she enters the room.

“So, uh, you, uh, you saw a midwife throughout your pregnancy?”

“Yes.” Technically no, but no need to make this lady worry more than she already was.

“Okay. Um. There’s, uh, there’s testing they regularly do in pregnancy, so did you have any of that done?”

“Well yes, but that wasn’t with my midwife. I had bloodwork done and the group b strep test.”

It continues like this with her awkwardly asking about my prior care as though afraid I had and would refuse every sort of procedure, exhibiting evident relief for the things I confirmed having done. This included newborn procedures for the baby, which brought us to the whole reason for being here.

“So the PKU test is normally done at the hospital, so we don’t have the test papers here. And hearing tests they do next door at ENT so we’ll schedule something for you over there.”

Great. So the whole reason we came isn’t even getting accomplished today. To make matters worse, this whole time a nurse who didn’t know what she was doing was trying to get a pulse on my baby with these fancy probes.

“Hmm, see this one’s going but I can’t get this one to go….” (The doctor comes over and corrects her placement: “You’ve gotta put one on the front of the hand and one on the back, and same with the foot.”) “This one says 97, but the other says 76…. Oh, this one was taking a reading of your bouncing, you’ll have to hold the baby still…. The battery’s dying on this one, we’ll have to grab a new one….”

And then they had to do the whole process all over again when they realized they had put the reader on the wrong hand. With more troubleshooting and more batteries dying. The whole thing is ridiculous, obviously my child has a healthy pulse and oxygen levels - you can tell that just by looking at her.

And herein lies just one of the problems I have with modern medicine - that they’re so focused on all their fancy machines and technology that they’re losing the skills of diagnosing a person based on looking at them. You see it in labor and maternity wards. Instead of nurses being hands on and observing mothers, they sit behind screens watching the baby’s pulse and mother's contractions, which doesn’t actually help move baby along, nor has it proven to improve outcomes for mothers and babies. That versus a doula or midwife, who watches a mother and can take note of when it might be helpful to try a new position or comfort technique, or even if the mother needs to stop to rest or eat. None of that comes by watching a screen. 

The doctor finally gets a pulse reading that is to her satisfaction, and she completes the rest of the examination. They point out that my baby’s weight is one ounce higher than her birth weight, which seems off to them because babies typically lose weight before beginning to gain again after mom’s milk comes in. They even go as far as to suggest that the midwife’s scale was “different.” Whatever. Just get me out of here.

“The last thing we need is for you to fill out this release form so we can get that information from your OBGYN about your test results.” Even though I had assured them that all my test results were fine, they still want to see for themselves. Fine. Have my records. Just let me leave.

They leave me while I get the paperwork filled out. It is during one of these periods when they’ve left me that I take notice of the decor in the exam room. Having only been a boy mom up to this point, I’ve seen rooms with Toy Story, Finding Nemo, Cars, and presumably other “boyish” content. Why presumably? I’d never had reason to believe it was boy-specific until I realized the room I was in had princess stickers. Now that I had a girl, I was to be exposed to the feminine version of exam rooms, which was something I had never even known existed before. For some reason this adds a bad taste to what is already a foul experience.

They come get my paperwork and I can finally leave, and I hurriedly exit the building. Thankfully baby got to nurse while I had filled out the paperwork, so she went in her seat without a problem. My pelvic floor, on the other hand, was another issue entirely. I ease myself into my seat without leaking too much and drive home.

The rain had been light when leaving the building, but steadily got heavier and heavier, until it reached my earlier description of requiring the fast setting on my wipers. As I pull down the driveway, it increases to a furor that none dare enter. None except my children, who apparently can’t wait to see me, and all come running out to meet me.

“Go get my raincoat,” I tell them. I may as well make use of them. While they fetch that, I obsessively attempt to dry off the inside of my door that got wet from the giving of instructions and then head to the back to go out the side door. This movement tests my pelvic floor again, which begins to give out.

“Here, Mom.” They pass my coat through the side door, which I slide on and then grab my purse to jump out. There is a literal flood outside this door, and I step in water past my ankles to get out of the van. I hurry to the other side to get the baby seat. As much as I hate doing it, I know carrying her seat in is the best option right now. 

My pelvic floor, pushed to the limit, can last no longer. As I pull her seat out my bladder empties, filling my disposable underwear with one liquid while the rain drenches me with another. I hurry in with the kids and we bring our soaking selves inside.

My displeasure is unmatched. Not only did I not accomplish what I left to do today, but I had to plod through a rainstorm for no good reason. I wasted my time, got soaked in the rain, and suffered the indignity of urinating myself. 

And I still have to go in again to actually get those things done.

Someday medical care won’t cause such a visceral reaction in me.

Maybe.

Birth of Baby P

For my second birth I decided to birth with midwives at a birth center instead of an OBGYN at a hospital. I didn't want to have to fight for what I wanted and felt just as safe. Simple as that.

I also took a birth class not offered by the hospital (as I had for my first). Though I had successfully had an unmedicated birth for my first, I wanted to learn more techniques and clear any fears I had before this birth. As part of that I made a vision board and the phrase relating to what I wanted for my birth said, "I birth peacefully supported by midwives and family."

When determining a due date for my second, I opted to go by when I was pretty sure I had ovulated (based on tracking my basal body temperature) which put me at a date about a week before my first son's second birthday. A part of me really wanted him to come before his birthday, maybe so I could have "two under two" if even for only a couple days. The only concern was that my mother had purchased her ticket to come out on my first son's birthday which meant she might miss the birth. Seeing as she had been such a huge support during my first delivery, I was struggling to know how I could replace her. I tried contacting a few friends to see who could watch Jeffrey and ask if they were interested in helping during the birth, but had little success. Whether because of this or because this guy really did need to cook longer, I had little to no indication of labor until my mother flew into town.

Really it's astonishing. Of her five grandchildren this would be the fourth birth that she would attend and in all four cases we gave birth within about two days of her arrival. As I said, she came late on my oldest's birthday (late enough that he was in bed) and the next day we spent building the bond between grandson and grandmother and trying to encourage labor. We went on a walk and I have to say, I looked SMALL. A couple weeks prior I would say I was at my biggest, but then the little guy descended into my pelvis and I was not huge by most standards. I felt some lower back cramping (as I had a couple times up to this point), but other than that not much during that day. When your mother is in town you feel just a little bit of pressure to go into labor, especially when she flew in and only has so much time there. I truly attribute that as part of the reason all of us have given birth shortly after her arrival.

When we went to bed I vaguely remember experiencing some cramping, but not so much to keep me awake (as had happened with my first). A little frustrated by this, but knowing I needed rest I slept pretty decently that night.

At about 7:00am my husband's alarm went off (yes, mid-summer, he still had work!) and I had been lying awake for the last little bit feeling what I hoped were about to become regular contractions. When I timed them they were about 8 to 10 minutes apart, so not too exciting, but nothing to sneeze at either. They weren't very intense and so we decided to go on a walk to try to help them along.

And It helped! They got much closer together, but were not very long. With my first I had gotten accustomed to contractions lasting 60-90 seconds, but this time they were literally only 15-30 seconds, sometimes 40. And they were strong, but not all that bad really. And the even crazier part is the breaks I would have in between! With my first I would only get about 30 seconds in between, but this time I'd get a minute or more!

And actually, in a way I was discouraged because I was thinking it'd need to get more intense for me to progress. Well, we got back from our walk and I decided to shower. I do think my husband had called off work by this point, even though I was thinking it still may be several hours. After showering I got my long time on the toilet in (see explanation from first labor) and then finally tried to call my midwife. I didn't get an answer, but left a message, thinking she'd call back. I was excited when the answering machine was the midwife I had hoped for (there were three at the practice).

That was about 10:45am. For the next hour or so I spent a lot of it on my hands and knees to keep the baby in a good position and my husband applied counter-pressure with a rebozo. Quick explanation: a rebozo is a long kind of scarf used in Latin American cultures for a variety of uses, one of which is to assist women during labor. And in that way it has multiple uses as well, the main one we used was to do hip squeezes that provided counter-pressure for my contractions. We learned about it in our birth class.

I was still experiencing pretty decent-sized breaks between contractions. I think we tried calling one other time and then finally tried a third time before we finally got ahold of my midwife. It was a Wednesday and that was the day they had appointments at the closer of the two birthing centers and so I asked if we should travel to the further one. The closer birth center was smaller and if I went to birth there they would have to cancel all the appointments, so I had said throughout my whole pregnancy that if I gave birth on Wednesday it would be at the further one. It was determined that I should and so we started to pack up and get ready to leave. My son and mother had been playing and doing dishes during all this time and (as it does) it took some time to get out the door. As we finally got in the car I experienced my first urge to push, and that was when I realized I may be closer to birthing than I thought I was.

We left about noon. Lunch hour traffic. And with how far we lived from the freeway...we hit nearly every red light. And to a woman in transition - uncomfortable to say the least. Really my labor had been a breeze (comparatively) up to this point, but now traveling in the car (not comfortable when nine months pregnant let alone being in labor) and not being able to position myself in different ways or have my husband's help it was very uncomfortable. Overall though, I was able to maintain composure and not completely give in to the urge to push.

When we arrived matters were not much improved because we had never been to this birth center and had no idea where to go. After waiting for a contraction to pass, I heaved myself from the car and started heading in with my husband. Upon entering the building, we were instantly lost. I had expected them to be right there, but there was no one in sight. Just an empty first floor with random furnished rooms and - oh, look! A bathroom, let's use it. So I found myself stuck on the toilet, managing contractions solo as well as I could while my husband tried to figure out where we were supposed to go.

As it turned out, the birth center was all on the second floor. My baby's head was on its way out and I needed to climb a flight of stairs. (Okay, he wasn't actually crowning, but he wasn't at a negative station either!) So once that contraction ended my husband assisted me back through the first floor and to the stairs to the second floor. There was a little reception desk and a play area where my son and mother were already situated. To give you a visual - I was standing there holding myself (as I had been doing since we exited the car because IT FELT LIKE HE WOULD FALL OUT if I didn't hold myself) and my midwife was seated behind the desk on her phone. ON HER PHONE! I finally said, "where do you want me?"

And she looked up and saw the position I was in and said, "let's get you to the birthing suite," while thinking, "she's having a baby!"

We get back there and another midwife meets me and says, "Woah, this baby is coming, where do you want to be? We have the stool or the bed, and not much time to decide."

A little irked that she was not being more gentle, I just lay myself on my side on the bed as if to say, "This is where I am, this is where I will stay. I will not be moved!"And everyone started getting things ready around me. Then she asked if I wanted my mom to be there and I just said, "if she wants to be!" And they went and got her.

At this point while reclining on the bed, I finally got my husband's support again and realized that it was okay for me to start pushing. And so I did! Looking back, I actually wished I hadn't so much pushed and just let the little guy descend on his own more because I ended up tearing right through my old episiotomy scar. Grrrrrr.

My mom and son got on the bed beside me to watch, my husband was on my other side standing by me, and two midwives and a few attendants were... "below" me and had to dodge as my water broke during one of my pushes. I'm so grateful it got to break on its own because it certainly made labor much cushier!

Approximately 10 minutes after arriving to the birth center, he was there. He was blue, but they went ahead and placed him on me, and he eventually started crying and getting pinker. Having gotten there so fast I still had my shirt on and so he was just kind of awkwardly on my bare tummy. We were stuck like that for a bit while I got stitched up but eventually we got more comfortable and I was able to start breastfeeding.

This experience taught me several things:
1. Labor can go much faster for a subsequent birth!
2. Long breaks can occur between contractions and labor can be relatively comfortable!
3. Keep calling the midwife until she answers!

And in the end, I got just what I had visualized: "I birth peacefully supported by midwives and family."

Life with our two-year-old

It’s hard to believe my baby is already two! And that two years ago I was giving birth - time really flies. We thought his brother would be here by now, but it looks like he’s waiting a little longer to come. In the mean time, here’s an update!

Letters: He started showing interest in letters really randomly and without prompting, just by asking about lettering on shirts and so forth. From there it led to him first identifying “O” and then “S” and then it just went crazy from there. Now he can identify the whole alphabet (all upper-case and some lower-case) and loves pointing at and naming letters. 

Colors: Similar to letters, he just started pointing at things and naming its color. I want to say he started with red, but he was also really good at blue and orange to start out. Now he can do the whole rainbow, as well as brown, black, white, gray, and pink. Sometimes my husband and I will get really technical and tell him something is “tan” or “teal” and sometimes he remembers! So it’s really funny when he’ll surprise us with “silver” or something like that. 

Numbers: I hate to sound repetitive (or boring to anyone who could care less about our son’s development) but he also randomly started saying, “one, two,” only he would repeat that over and over. Eventually he started adding more numbers, and currently he loves counting to ten, only lately he’s been skipping six. Sometimes he likes to tack on a “yeven” (11) at the end. 

Talking: On top of everything described above, his vocabulary has also exploded. I can’t even list everything he says because he learns new words every day! He’s now to the point where (when he’s in the mood) he’ll just repeat anything we say. It’s really cute when it’s something like “Wow!” or “Crazy!” (the other day it was “that’s insane!”), but it gets me in trouble when it’s “Shoot!” so I have to be careful. He has started to have more complete sentences, and just today he said, “I got it!” after retrieving something, it was so cute. That was particularly awesome because more often he’ll refer to himself as “you” and say things like “hold you” when he wants us to hold him, and call us “me--” when he wants to help us he’ll say, “help me?” Pronouns are tricky to say the least. He also likes to identify when people or things are “funny” or he’ll describe people like “Mommy sad” or “Daddy cute” and so forth. It is so fun being able to communicate with him more.

In general he can repeat after us anything we say, and so we have started to have him say prayers and read scriptures. So that’s been really fun, and he gets really excited about “Jesus!” He can identify Jesus in pictures, although sometimes he’s a little off. For example, once he saw a picture of Dumbledore and called him Jesus. To make matters worse, once when Jeffrey was speaking gibberish and said something like, “Duh-ba-do,” my husband started having him say, “Dumbledore.” Though he’ll still call pictures of Dumbledore both Dumbledore and Jesus. Then, in church yesterday my son decided that was a good time to practice saying Dumbledore, both to my amusement and horror. It was pretty funny.

Nursery: Also at church, he has gotten much more excited about going to Nursery lately. Sometimes he even asks to go during the week! He always talks about playing with cars and balls there, and can name the other children. I don’t know if he sings when they have song time, but with us he has started to try to sing and it is so cute. Once at nursery he even offered a prayer when they said it was prayer time without being asked - that was unexpected!

Around the house: He loves to be a big helper and “kween up!” (clean up, sung as in the clean up song) “errbody!” He tried to use the vacuum and broom, and can help put dishes in the sink. He hasn’t quite got putting books back on the shelf though (a true misfortune, since he still loves to tear them off). He also likes to help in the kitchen and use the “whee,” (any mixer is a whee, and he gets sad if I hand-mix instead). 

Books: He LOVES reading. We get new books from the library all the time and he gets favorites while we have them. Sometimes he’ll still ask for certain books after we’ve returned them! He’s really good at just sitting and turning pages on his own (he’s only torn a few, on accident, he really is gentle) and loves to read the same book over and over “ghen?” (again). 

Baby brother: My son has been really cute with the baby in my belly, hugging and kissing it. Granted, for a while he also would point to his own or daddy’s belly and say “baby brudder,” but if we ask him to point to where baby brother is he points to mine. He loves getting to lift my shirt so he can cuddle my belly. Then about a month ago, he started also trying to take my belly “off” and wanting the baby to come “out.” I guess we’ll see how ready he is when the baby gets here!

When will my child start to listen?

This is a question parents often ask, and I completely understand where they are coming from. It is also phrased as, “When will they understand the word, ‘no?’” or “At what age will they do what I say?” However you ask the question, basically what parents are wanting is cooperative children. And who wouldn’t? It’s easy to see why we want our children to listen and act according to our instructions. But have you ever asked yourself what exactly would help your child to listen? 

Allow me to explain. I once observed a mother during a play group where we moms were chatting and the toddlers were playing nearby. As is the often the case in this scenario, one mother (or more) would have to stop to correct or redirect a child amidst their play. For this one mother, this happened several times between her and her child during this time. Feeling frustrated that her child wasn’t listening, she directed a rhetorical question at us, basically the question laid out above. 

To me, the answer was obvious. Her child was not being belligerently disobedient (though it may have appeared that way), but was just engaging in normal toddler limit testing. But that’s not why they weren’t listening. The whole time during this particular play group (I have no idea what interactions were like outside of this setting) the only time the mother spoke to this child was to correct them. Not once was there an encouraging statement, a compliment, or anything that would help the child feel connected to their mother. 

I do not say this to say the mother was in the wrong, but only to point out that she hadn’t helped give that toddler any reason to want to listen to her! Would you want to listen to someone that was constantly telling you what you were doing was wrong or taking things away from you that you were enjoying? I don’t think so!

Just think of them as constantly conducting
experiments: What happens if I do this?

Again, I’m not trying to make this mother out to sound like a bad person. I merely want my audience to understand that if the only communication you and your toddler have is you telling them, “no,” or otherwise disciplining them, that you are not very likely to see much cooperation from them. 

So what does help toddlers to cooperate? In a word: connection! The more connected you feel to a person, the more likely you are to want to follow their directions or heed their counsel. Granted, toddlers are known for constantly testing limits, and will do so even when they feel connected to their caregiver - it’s basically their job description (and developmentally what their brain is asking of them). But the more connected they feel to a caregiver results in more cooperation from the toddler. 

It may or may not be obvious how to connect to your toddler; I will give some examples. You can notice when they are exploring and learning something new, making statements or asking questions about it. Show interest in what they are doing. (Author’s note: self-directed play/learning is a great thing and we shouldn’t always interrupt it with our queries or suggestions, but in the context of connection, if your child is acting out, this is one of those things you can do to reconnect.) 

What does this look like? In the context of a playgroup, my son will occasionally indicate to me something he’s doing, and wants me to acknowledge (“Are you driving that car around?” “That toy looks fun!” “Are you going to go down the slide?”). As quick as that he’s back to playing, and knows I’m still interested in what he’s doing. Granted, that can be difficult to do if you are busy talking to other moms or caring for a baby and are distracted, but try to acknowledge when your child wants your attention, because it may just take a brief moment of time.

Since I mentioned caring for a baby, I will give an example related to that. My second little one isn’t here yet, but I have watched babies while caring for my son. Sometimes I notice him having a hard time (others might refer to this as acting out) because I am holding the baby (and therefore not holding or otherwise attending to him). To acknowledge this, I will occasionally ask him if he needs a hug. Often he’ll say yes and we take a moment to have a little cuddle. Other times he says no, and then I ask about what he’s feeling, if he’s having a hard time because of the baby or if something else is bothering him. Once we get to the bottom of things (and you may not always find a reason, because children don’t always know why they are upset) we try to fix or otherwise validate what he’s going through. There is almost always an immediate improvement in behavior afterward.

As far as other ways to connect, it may require more time on your part: reading a book, playing with blocks or dolls, going outside: basically spending time with your child however they like to do that with you. Granted, where you are at a given moment may not immediately facilitate this kind of connection. But acknowledge that you are willing to do that with them when you get the chance. Make them a promise! And then keep it, and your child will learn that you value connecting with them and prioritizing them. They may still be upset in the moment, but you can always acknowledge their feelings so they know that you care.

The ultimate take home message I want everyone to get is that we need to not look at our child as “bad” for not listening. Doing that only creates more misbehavior, and usually only makes you look like the “bad guy” to your kids (due to constant correction and discipline). Rather, if your child is having a hard time listening, think of needs they may have that are not getting met and try to help them however you can. (You can think of the acronym H.A.L.T. - hungry, angry, lonely, tired - the same acronym to use to know when NOT to go shopping, at least if you want to avoid unnecessary purchases.) Think of you and your child as on the same team - how can you best assist them in having the best behavior possible? Then there will be less of you making unheeded demands and more of working together to make everyone happy. It is totally possible! As we prioritize connection over cooperation, ultimately we will have more of both. Or as Thomas S. Monson would say, “Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved.” 

I do not wish to say that we should never correct our children. Proper limit setting and keeping is absolutely in our job description. However, I do wish to emphasize that our positive interactions with and statements toward our children should greatly outnumber the number of times we have to correct if we really hope to see cooperation. Expecting unquestioning obedience from our children without first working on our relationship with them will either result in rebellious children, or children that obey only out of fear. Parenting and disciplining with love and empathy, on the other hand, will result in children that obey because they know that we care for them and their feelings and are coming from a position of connection. The more we connect and love, the more our children can trust us. The more our children can trust us, the more likely they will be cooperative.

A note about toddlers: again, this is a stage where they are constantly testing limits, and even when they feel connected they will “disobey” because they want to see what will happen. They repeat this behavior because the want to see if we will have the same response every time. So while connecting with them is of utmost importance, it is also important to, when necessary, set a limit calmly, confidently, and consistently. If we react with frustration or in any other emotionally charged manner, this will make engaging in the behavior more interesting to the toddler. Instead, when a toddler does something you don’t want them to, you calmly remind them what the limit is, what the consequence is (natural consequences are best, like taking a toy away they aren’t playing with properly, unnatural consequences are more likely to result in resentment rather than “learning a lesson.”) and follow through. If they are upset, EMPATHIZE. Don’t be sorry about setting the limit, but do be sorry that it makes them sad and help them feel that. That can immediately start to help a toddler feel reconnected and not like you are the “bad guy.” 

So there you go! When will children start to listen? As soon as you start to connect. 

The Tale of the “Boomie”

So one day my son got a balloon; and he loved his balloon. Only he didn’t call it balloon, he called it, “boomie,” because that’s what he could say.

When he played with it, he would let it go and let it float up and hit the ceiling. Of course, we could always get it down for him and he got lots of enjoyment out of this activity.

Later that day we were going to go bye-bye, and my son and I headed to the car. Normally I help him (a.k.a. carry him), but I was carrying lots of stuff to the car so I went ahead of him. He stayed behind with his “boomie.” I unloaded my arms, and then went back to get him where he was standing on the sidewalk. 

Before I reached him he suddenly let his “boomie” go into the air, not realizing what would happen. I watched as the balloon flew away and my son just called after it, “Boomie, boomie.” He was not upset, because he could still see it, and in his mind, I think he thought he could still get it. After some time, the balloon flew so far that we could no longer see it, and THEN my son realized what letting his balloon go had meant. 

This is basically what it looked like, only
without the airplane

At first his cries just became sadder, “Boomie? Boomie?” And then he dissolved into tears. Having witnessed the whole thing, including his delayed comprehension of what had happened, it was all I could do to take him in my arms and feel for this boy and his lost “boomie.” It wouldn’t do any good at this point to lecture him or blame him, and so I was just sad with him, “You lost your boomie, huh? It went bye-bye.” 

Soon we left, and he was still sad about it. We continued to validate and eventually his mind was on other things. The funny part was, he continued to bring it up! That night when we’re putting him to bed, “Boomie, boomie?” The next day in the car again, “Boomie?” Whenever we would stand at the spot where he lost it, “Boomie!” 

And so it went for a couple of weeks. He now is no longer sad about having lost it, but he is excited about getting a new one. Back when he lost that one we promised we would get a new one, but haven’t made good on that promise yet. But he continues to remind us, and he even decided that he wants a “wed” (red) one. The old one was blue, in case you were wondering. 

Moral of the story? Don’t let go of your balloon, but if someone does, don’t make them feel worse than they already do about it.

How to let your babies cry (without feeling like you’re letting them cry)

This may sound like the exact opposite advice that I gave in my last post. But really it is a balanced way to approach crying that you can’t attend to right away. Because after all, as great as the baby feels their needs are when they are crying, the mother has needs too, and I’m going to strike a balance in helping her attend both her and the baby’s needs.

Quick, now! While they're not looking!

Do you ever find yourself in any of the following situations:

1.) Putting off a need of your own (getting yourself food, going to the bathroom, etc.) because you are trying to avoid making your baby cry as you leave to attend to it.

2.) Going ahead and leaving your baby momentarily to attend to some such need, having caused them to be upset, getting angry at them and saying hurtful things such as, “Geez, kid! You’re fine! Can’t you just calm down?”

3.) Feeling guilt for attending to other needs or chores or feeling as though you are otherwise neglecting your baby.

Now if you are anything like me, you have found yourself in all of these, depending on your stress level or emotional state at the time. And it makes sense that this would stress us out, because we have legitimate needs to fill too, and putting them off too long can actually make us worse parents if it impacts our emotional state. Because I want you to be the best parent possible, I am going to attempt to rid you of these concerns and give you some tools to help you handle these situations so that you can meet both your needs and the baby’s.

First, we need to change our attitude about the crying. I know, I know, I just spent a huge post and a half about not letting our babies cry because it causes them stress and so of course it stresses us when we hear them cry. Let’s pause. While it is important to respond to our baby’s cries, it is also important to note that our immediate response can happen about 80% of the time and the other 20% the baby will be okay if left for a few minutes. Remember our conversation about the brain? That highway we’re trying to build where the baby knows that we will respond immediately can still be there so long as our responsiveness greatly outnumbers the few times it takes us a little longer to get to them. 

So perfect! You don’t need to feel guilt about taking a little longer to get to your baby now and then (ideally, when you’re taking care of important needs like bowel movements or water bottle filling) because as long as you are responding as soon as you can the baby can still trust that you’ll be there.

Okay, lady, that’s great and all. But really why can’t my kid just be happy and then I wouldn’t have to worry about this? He is fine, why does he freak out when I leave?

Great questions. Again, assuming you have formed a strong attachment with your baby, it will be perfectly natural for them to be sad when you leave. That’s true for both a quick trip to the bathroom or a longer excursion like going out with your spouse. What you need to do is be okay with this. Allow their emotions. Trying to force the baby to bottle their emotions is even worse than them crying for a bit. We don’t enjoy our child being sad, but we’d rather them express it than keep it to themselves, never to trust anyone. 

The question we should be asking is, how do we handle it? I’ll tell you. First, prepare them for your departure. This shows respect. Tell your baby, “I’m going to be leaving for a couple minutes to use the bathroom. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.” And then leave. They may still be sad, but again, that’s allowed - they don’t want you to leave and it upsets them. Rather than be angry about this upon your return, be empathetic. Sure you know they were “fine,” but really try to get on your baby’s level and understand that it made them really sad when you left, and express that. “You got sad when I left. I’m sorry that upset you! I’m back now, I’m here for you.” And you may find that validating your baby’s feelings like this may help them cry less (just like when you respond quickly to their cries). But no matter how much they cry, support them in their feelings. Allow full expression. While crying when alone is stressful for babies, crying with your support can be cathartic, and they feel better afterward. 

This is why taking care of your needs as a parent is so important. It is much harder to have an empathetic response like this on an empty stomach or no sleep. So tell yourself these affirmations right now:

I will be a better parent as I take care of myself.

It is okay for my baby to be sad so long as I support them in their emotions.

My baby can handle hard things the more I empathize with them.

In fact, you may find as you make this a pattern - prepare your baby that you’re going to leave and empathize upon return, that they eventually stop getting upset when you leave because they have learned to trust that you will be back soon! They will be happy just like you wanted! But again, no matter the response your child has, be sure to empathize with and support it. The goal here is not to have babies that never cry, but babies who are responded to and who feel validated in their emotions. That (and not never crying) is what will make emotionally stable children and adults who feel comfortable confiding in you.

Now, since I do like Attachment Parenting, I will say that some folks in that arena will encourage you to wear/carry your baby so that way you don’t have to leave them. If this works for you, great. But for some due to back problems or even the baby not liking the carrier this does not work for everyone. Or, if you’re like me, I preferred to use this method only when we were out and about and not for a solution around the house. Or you may find this works better when they are a tiny baby and not so much when they’re mobile. Or it may depend on the child’s temperament! Every child is different. So you can find a solution that works for you. Whatever you do, if you’re trying to empathize and connect with your baby, you’re doing a great job.

The Carseat Dilemma

I want to give another scenario where this made a huge difference to our family. Our son hated his carseat. Whenever we would need to get in the car, he would instantly get upset and getting him in his carseat was a battle. When he was smaller and still breastfeeding a lot, I would often keep him out and nurse him while my husband would drive, but this was not as effective once he got more mobile. Now he wanted to jump and play all around the car and it was simply unsafe. We knew we had to do something. 

At first we did what most of us do: force him in kicking and screaming. None of us liked this, it made us all miserable, and I knew there had to be another way. That’s when I had this epiphany about empathy. I realized that I didn’t need to feel bad about making my child sad to get him in his carseat, because I knew that’s where he’d be safe. But what I could feel bad about - and empathize with him about - was that this made him sad. I could say, “I’m sorry it makes you sad that we put you in here. I know it’s not your favorite.” as well as otherwise prepare him for how long we would be in the car and what he could expect. 

It took a few tries, he didn’t settle right away, but eventually he got into his carseat without any struggle at all. We also praised him when he would do that, but never made him feel bad about not wanting to be in there. Again, we allowed full expression of his feelings, and once he felt validated, he was better able to handle the situation. We avoided telling him things like, “You’re fine, calm down - you won’t be in there long anyway,” because these statements do not validate his emotions. And I am proud to say that we are now at a point where he willingly gets in his carseat and now just waves his arm, which means he wants music, and we crank the classical station.

Don’t Distract

When my son would get upset in the car, we would offer several distractions to try to make him happy: food, songs, toys - sometimes they worked, but most of the time he would remain upset. That is why I feel that we are doing our children a disservice when we distract them - we essentially tell them, “I’m uncomfortable hearing you express your emotions, and so I’m going to try to shut you up with these other things.” We’ve all been there, done that, I’m not judging anyone, I’m merely saying that I believe there is a better way. Now that my sons feelings have been acknowledged, he does enjoy food, songs, and toys in the car, but they work because we validated him first. We acknowledged that this experience made him miserable and we apologized for that. And then once he was calm, he was ready to enjoy his car ride with those things. 

We offer distractions all the time: in church, while at friends’ houses, while on the phone, you name it. Once our child makes an unsettling peep we instantly try to make it stop. While sometimes what we offer is appropriate - a teether for a teething baby, for instance - other times this just stifles what our child is trying to tell us - that they need our empathy and connection. This of course is not true all the time, sometimes they are hungry, tired, bored, need to be changed, etc. but if it’s been some time since you looked in your child’s eyes and felt what they’re feeling, then it may be time to do that. I know it has made a huge difference for us and helps us all handle the tears better.

So there you have it: how to let your baby cry without feeling like you’re letting them cry - you don’t ignore it, but acknowledge it fully, and when possible, prepare them for handling stressful situations. Here’s to happier and validated babies and parents!