Really Pants

Our journey into Attachment Parenting.

I was always going to be the homely, cake baking, playful mummy that my own mother never was. From a young age I was baking with my younger sister (8 years my junior) every Sunday and cooking Roast dinners for the family. I was the nurturing type and had decided being a mother would come easily and naturally to me, whenever the time came.

Why, then, when the time did come, was Attachment Parenting such a battle for us?

The birth of Molly was a beautiful and positive experience. It wasn’t perfect, but it was wonderful and I will remember it happily, always. It was, to me, the perfect end to a perfect pregnancy and a relief after all of the worrying I had done in the previous 9 months. The only thing that I hadn’t been anxious about, throughout the entirety of my pregnancy, was the aftercare. It hadn’t even occurred to me. So, when I was told that Molly would need to be monitored for 24 hours, not long after having given birth to her, I felt quite blank… shocked.

When Molly was born she had a couple of “dusky episodes”, apparently this can sometimes indicate heart problems. Several examinations by several different paediatricians, a chest x-ray and a flurry of medical staff later she was declared fine, healthy, nothing wrong. A misunderstanding with a midwife led to this not being passed on and Molly winding up spending time in Neonatal Intensive Care. As they took her from my arms, she began to cry and I don’t think I have ever cried so hard… until I saw her in an incubator. Those 24 hours were unbearable and my heart truly goes out to mother of poorly and premature babies who endure this for weeks and months. I don’t know how they do it.

It was decided that they would start her on cautionary antibiotics, they would tube feed her (so that I would be able to breastfeed her still) and she would be monitored round the clock. There were tubes and wires everywhere and, at 6lbs 12oz, she looked so tiny and so helpless. I just wanted to hold her. Breastfeeding was my excuse. It seemed like an excuse but, actually, it was my natural instinct to get to her in any way that I could. It turned out that, of course, she was fine though they continued with the antibiotics just in case and to complete the course. Unfortunately (unfortunate isn’t the right word, not nearly strong enough) somebody ended up giving her an overdose. In the following days the endless heel prick tests, various examinations and the poking and prodding was incredibly traumatic for both of us. When the same midwife declared her jaundice and popped her in an incubator again (on too high a temperature) it all became too much and my mother, who is a midwife at the hospital, stepped in and asked the senior staff to take over. We were declared well and home the very next day. From the moment she was born, I knew, instinctively, that she was fine. She had been fine all along. I guess, in a way, that made whole experience more painful and traumatic. I had been robbed of my mothering abilities from the start.

Throughout our time at the hospital I held her constantly, I nursed on demand and we co-slept. I wanted her near me at all times and, if her cries when we were briefly parted were anything to go by, then she felt the same way. Accidentally, but happily so, we fell into attachment parenting. Naturally.

In the weeks following, I was nervous, I stayed awake with her all night, scared that she was too fragile and small to be left unattended at any point. I battled regularly with my emotions and belief in what I was doing. Was I making her insecure? Was I doing this because I was traumatised? Was I doing it all wrong? After all, advice from every side told me that she should be sleeping in her moses basket by herself, feeding every 4 hours and content in her pram. She was none of these things. She seemed unhappy.

One night, after a particularly emotional battle during a growth spurt and constant feeding, I turned to the internet to see if there was something wrong. It didn’t take long before I stumbled across Dr. Sears’ website. He described my baby to me perfectly, he described how he had felt the same as I had with his fourth child. Molly wasn’t insecure, I wasn’t doing anything wrong… she was just a high needs baby! I’d been doing everything right, after all. That night was a real turning point for me, I started to believe in myself more and the more I looked into attachment parenting, the more I found it suited everything Molly wanted and everything I had believed in all along, before a traumatic experience and the well meaning advice of others had tampered with my ability to think clearly and act confidently.

So, Molly wouldn’t sleep by herself… we co-slept, she wouldn’t settle after a feed… we fed round the clock, she wouldn’t be content in her pram… I wore her in a Mei Tai. I was happier, Molly was thriving and everything fell neatly into place. All the time bonding we had stolen from us in that first week, we had regained. Attachment parenting and Dr Sears reminded me to be who I was all along and we’ve never looked back.

Attachment parenting might not be for everyone, but it is everything to us and what I have learnt these past few months is to trust my instincts as a mother. There is a strong sense of community when it comes to raising a child and the well meaning advice imparted by those around us can often undermine our abilities to act on instinct.

It turns out that I am a nurturing, maternal and “natural” mother after all, and even a very unnatural journey, lots of fighting with my partner and lots of tears hasn’t swayed us from a course I like to think we would always have followed.

For those interested in Attachment Parenting and Dr. Sears, the following website may be of interest:

http://www.askdrsears.com/html/10/T130300.asp