| Linda turned off the clock radio
and tiptoed down the stairs. She flicked on the coffee maker
and settled herself in at her computer. The early-morning
stillness reminded her anew of how very much she enjoyed this
peaceful time, when she was the only one awake. Another reason
she loved being up first: she could relish the sounds of her
home coming to life, sounds unique to every household.
As if on cue, the baby monitor on the corner of her desk
telegraphed an end to the silence. Linda easily could mistake
the tentative little coos for those of the mourning doves
outside, if not for the fuzzy static that accompanied the
tiny baby’s babbling. After one quick sip of her coffee,
Linda headed upstairs, hoping to get to the baby before her
failure to appear turned the gentle coo into a piercing wail.
Reaching the nursery in plenty of time, Linda picked her
soft pink bundle up out of the crib and carried her over to
the changing table. The mother took pleasure in her morning
routine of changing, powdering, and dressing her little one
for the day. The house was still chilly; Linda was grateful
for the baby-wipe warmer she’d gotten as a shower present.
As soon as their routine was completed, Linda dropped a soggy
packet into the diaper disposal unit, turned off the electronic
musical screen that kept Joy amused during the change, and
plodded back downstairs.
“Time to make breakfast,” she said to her smiling
baby, who understood little but the possibility of a snuggle.
Linda settled Joy into her favorite bouncy seat, which was
placed close to the counter so Joy could watch Mommy prepare
meals. Linda chatted to Joy as she bustled from microwave
to toaster to stove making breakfast. Just as she finished,
a new morning sound greeted them in the kitchen: the pitter-patter
of big brother feet. Those feet brought Ethan first to Mommy
for a hug and kiss, then up on tiptoes to kiss the significantly
smaller toes of his baby sister. “Put Joy in swing?”
he asked, as he always did in the morning.
“Sure, sweetie,” Linda answered. “Good
idea. That’ll give me a minute to get a couple things
done.” She moved Joy over to the baby swing and watched
in delight as Ethan made up songs to the rhythmic cranking
of the musical swing.
Linda put a few dishes in the dishwasher and set the table
for breakfast. Once Ethan was settled in his booster seat
and Joy in her high chair, the three of them enjoyed a few
golden moments of family life, the kind of moments we think
of as ordinary at the time but magical in retrospect. Ethan
always found Joy hysterical, squealing with delight at her
innovative Cheerio-harvesting efforts; this morning, as usual,
Joy came through, finding her tongue a handy alternative to
the chubby creased fingers that never seemed to close in on
those elusive O’s quickly enough. (Of course, once her
cheeks were sporting enough drool, the whole-face method worked
best of all.)
After cleanup, Linda packed the kids up to tackle a few errands.
On the way to the shopping center, a smiling Linda peeked
in the rearview mirror often, watching Ethan entertain Joy.
Their carseats side by side, Ethan easily could lean over
and make her toys dance and sing. Linda found Ethan as sweet
and funny as his baby sister did. Ethan reveled in his big
brother role, despite the occasional rubber cow whack to the
face, as he was cheerfully accepting today.
When they arrived at the shopping center Linda popped out
Joy’s car seat and secured it in the strolling base,
waiting patiently as Ethan—the world’s newest
do-it-yourselfer—unbuckled his seat belt and climbed
down out of the van. Linda let Ethan walk and lead the way
for a while, until his slow pace and intense interest in every
passing object threatened to turn the morning’s errands
into a weeklong event. “Come on, buddy,” she cajoled,
“How ‘bout a ride in the stroller?” She
settled him into the toddler seat behind Joy, and they finished
their day’s tasks in no time.
Sure enough, on the way home, Joy and Ethan both fell asleep
in their car seats. Linda smiled a mother’s smile at
the site of Joy’s little sleeping face, with its bow-shaped
lips curled in a smirk that belied some pleasant reverie,
cheeks rosy and soft as the peaches they’d just bought.
She carefully scooped her up, dreams and all, and carried
her into the house.
After another trip to the car for her “big boy,”
Linda settled Ethan in his bed and Joy in her crib. In no
time, she was back at her desk, finishing up her work—but
not for long.
Again, the baby monitor came alive with sound. Linda went
to Joy’s room quickly, and found that, sure enough,
Joy’s nap was brief one. Linda, mindful of the grateful
nose-burying ritual that her little daughter was performing,
took Joy downstairs and put her in the bouncy seat near her
desk. Linda narrated her work process to Joy, who showed her
appreciation with her giggles and squeals. And thus, another
day was passing in the gentle rhythm of a day in the life.
The Hidden Message
“Why should I carry you or hold you when I have all
these modern baby contraptions to put you in?”
Think About It
Some call it a sign of progress. Some call it liberating.
Some call it convenient. What is it? The myriad fancy, colorful
baby carriers that can contain your baby in every conceivable
situation and position. Bouncers, jumpers, rollers, seats,
strollers, and swings. A virtual arsenal of inconvenience-fighting
ground forces. But what do they provide from a baby’s
point of view? A soft, warm embrace? (No, a cold, hard surface.)
The essential and nurturing touch of love? (No, an unyielding
plastic structure.) A feeling of unassailable safety? (No,
a strange feeling of being near those you love and need, but
too far away to receive comfort or get their attention.) Easy
access to Mommy’s touch, her breast, her loving face?
(No, too much distance from Mommy to even see her face at
all.)
Research proves over and over that we human beings crave
touch and physical closeness. Babies make their love of contact
obvious though their own cuddles and wet kisses—how
soon they learn to give these! Even those distant, sullen
teenagers secretly love physical attention they get from their
parents (despite the kids’ feigned protests). As adults,
we continue to thrive on hugs, kisses, and other forms of
affectionate human contact; we wither and die a little inside
when our lives are void of these pleasures. Numerous books
have been written about therapeutic touch and its power to
heal emotional, as well as physical, hurts and ailments.
Jean Liedloff, in her fascinating anthropology book, The
Continuum Concept, (Addison-Wesley Publishing company)
writes “The change from the total hospitality of the
womb is enormous, but, the infant has come prepared for the
great leap from the womb to his place in arms. What he has
not come prepared for is a greater leap of any sort, let alone
a leap into nothingness, non-life, a basket with cloth in
it, or a plastic box without motion, sound, odor, or the feel
of life. The infant lives in the eternal now; the infant in
arms in a state of bliss; the infant out of arms in a state
of longing in the bleakness of an empty universe.”
The most astounding proof that babies in particular have
physical and emotional needs for loving touch is the success
of a new way to care for premature babies: “kangaroo
care.” It’s an approach that originated in Bogota,
Columbia, by neonatologists Edgar Rey and Hector Martinez.
At the time of their study, the mortality rate of premature
babies in Bogota was 70% (due to lack of power and reliable
equipment). As part of the research, the doctors had moms
carry their preemies nearly 24 hours a day, 7 days a week
in specially designed sling carriers. The dramatic results?
The morality rate fell to 30%! Further studies by other scientists
revealed that kangarooed babies had a more regular heartbeat,
a reduced need for supplemental oxygen, less time spent crying,
and more time spent in a deep sleep, thereby conserving energy
for growth and development. A Neonatal Network study also
found increased intimacy and attachment between baby and parent
who used a kangaroo care contact approach.
Katie Allison Granju, author of Attachment
Parenting (Pocket Books, 1999), says that “human
infants, like most mammal babies, are happiest, most comfortable,
and develop best when they are kept physically close to a
warm body much of the time.” Dr. William Sears, renowned
pediatrician and my personal parenting hero (as described
in the foreword of this book), says, “It is a natural,
appropriate and desirable part of development for a baby to
be dependent. A baby needs to bond with people before
things.” Frequent, appropriate touch builds bonds
of trust that create security in an infant, and independence
in an older child. A baby who knows the world to be a safe,
manageable place will more readily separate from his parents
later, when appropriate, than a baby who has learned to fear
separation early on. Consider too, that the attachments you
form with your baby set the stage for a connected life-long
relationship.
Given this astounding evidence, why would you want your
baby to spend her day shuffled from one plastic container
to another? When asked, you tell people you “have”
a baby. But do you have your baby—or do these contraptions?
Changes You Can Make
It’s amazingly easy to change the pattern of behavior
that has you putting your baby down in a carrier. Pick up
your child. Smell her hair, kiss her butter-soft cheek. Hear
her breath in your ear. Wrap your arms around her and sense
the sum of her, this living, breathing expression of life.
Realize that you have but a few short years to hold her this
way, and that you will miss this one day—and so will
she. Understand that these moments are golden opportunities
for you to know one another in a beautifully intimate way
unique to childhood. Change the way you think about holding
your baby, and soon you’ll find yourself more and more
often with that soft bundle in your arms. And it’s habit
forming!
Of course it’s fine to use carriers and seats for your
baby to make your life easier! What’s important, though,
is to make wise choices about using these devises so that
they don’t become the prominent location for your baby’s
life. Your might even look at ways to blend convenience with
touch. Try one of the many soft carriers that enable
you to carry your baby while keeping both hands free to work
around the house or office, shop, go for walks, tend to other
children—so many activities can be done easily with
you “wearing” your baby! Slings, frontpacks, and
backpacks are available in many different styles. A number
of books discuss the pros and cons of each and give great
instructions on how to use them. If you’d like more
information, check out The
Baby Book, by Dr. William and Martha Sears (Little
Brown & Co., 1993), or Attachment
Parenting, by Katie Allison Granju, as mentioned earlier.
Whatever tools you use to further the endeavor, do touch,
hold, and cuddle your baby every chance you get. Give your
toddler lots of hugs and kisses. Welcome your school-age child
into your arms often. And give that teenager as much physical
contact as he’ll allow. And give some of that soul-enriching
touch to your spouse, too.
The most wonderful thing about cuddling is that it is never
unreturned. Don’t believe me? Stop reading right now
and go give your little one a good snuggle; I defy you to
tell me you didn’t get cuddled back—and that you
didn’t love it.
The words of a poem called “Human Touch” by Spencer
Michael Free capture the spirit of this lesson:
It’s the human touch in this world that counts,
the touch of your hand in mine.
For it means far more to the fainting heart
than shelter, bread or wine.
For shelter is gone when the night is o’er
and bread lasts only a day.
But the touch of your hand and the sound of your voice
lives on in my soul always.
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