On Un-Becoming Babywise

Ok, I'm about to dive into some controversial waters here. So please bear with me. I'd like to share some of my experiences, give some food for thought and get some honest feedback.

Once upon a time, I was a new mommy-to-be. I had great plans to do everything right, be the best parent EVER. Certainly to not make all the mistakes all the parents around me were making. I had heard a lot about this wonderful book Babywise. Everyone was reading it and raving, and it was a CHRISTIAN book! So I read it. And it made perfect sense. In fact it sounded so good that I felt doing things any other way would be just plain wrong. I would be setting myself up for failure, I would have spoiled rotten children who would feel the world centered around them. I would be sleep deprived and my marriage would probably fall apart. Now I'm not saying that the book told me these things would happen...exactly. But this was how I felt.

Then a crazy thing happened. I had a baby. Now the book still seemed right. In my head I thought I really SHOULD do all the things they recommended. But suddenly I didn't want to. I didn't want to put my baby down. I didn't want to let him sleep by himself. I just wanted to hold him. Like ALL the time. I wanted to nap with him, I wanted to carry him around. I wanted to nurse him whenever he wanted no matter what the clock said. So I fought with myself. I thought, "I need to be disciplined! This is what is best for my baby!" Good grief I can't nurse him ON DEMAND (gasp) he'll end up as a juvenile delinquent! I battled on and off and eventually I pretty much gave up and did what I wanted to do. Big surprise. Discipline has never been my middle name. But Guilt was. (Ironically Joy is my actual middle name) And boy did I feel guilty. I felt like I was being ungodly by not keeping him on a strict schedule. Every time he cried or was fussy I thought it was my fault because I just wasn't doing it right. I felt like a failure because he didn't sleep through the night when the book said he should, and I felt like a pushover when I got up to feed him night after night. I wasn't living up to my own expectations as a "good" parent and I was probably hurting him by not teaching him some important life lesson babies need to learn when they "cry it out."


Skip to the next child. This time I thought I would really need a good schedule because with two kids and no schedule life would just be utter chaos! And guess what? It was. Sort of. I admit I never really tried that hard to get on a schedule with my second son. I felt a little less guilty and I enjoyed it a lot more. The biggest shocker was that he actually put himself on a pretty predictable schedule. He did not, however, sleep through the night until he was much, much older than he was "supposed" to be.

And then came Grace. I never watched the clock. I never forced her to stay awake for play time. And she still crawls in my bed sometimes at night. Oh, and I'm pretty sure I've breastfed in every single mall and restaurant from Des Moines to Ames. But that's another post entirely.

So, what does it all mean and why am I posting about it? Well two things have impacted me in a way that has changed how I view the breastfeeding relationship. First is my experience, which I have briefly described above. Second, I started learning more about the biology of child birth and breastfeeding. The more I learned the more absolutely amazed I was at God's design for mothers and babies. I hadn't thought too much about human instinct before. Or if I did it was in a negative context, usually equated with the sin nature. But as I learned about the things that make breastfeeding successful I saw that they coincided perfectly with what I had so strongly desired. I began to see how perfectly mothers and babies were designed. How the mother and baby could be so effortlessly in sync. And the more we try to interfere the more we just tend to mess things up! I slowly began to see that maybe my instincts were given to me by God. I didn't have to fight against them I could embrace them and be thankful that God had so beautifully designed the mother-baby relationship.

Now here are my problems with Babywise. The first thing is, it's old. Recently people have been getting very excited about breastfeeding. It's in the news, celebrities are doing it. More and more research is being done and we are finding out how amazing and perfect and wonderful it is! More and more babies are being breastfed and so we are getting more information about what a breastfed baby does, and how he acts. We are realizing how very VERY different breastfed babies are from formula fed babies. So specifically back to Babywise. The research the book was based upon was done on all babies, not just breastfed babies. Even though the book talks about nursing, and not formula feeding, their research is going to be skewed toward formula babies. (Everyone's was) There is a new normal for breastfed babies and we are learning more every minute.

As for sleeping longer at night. Research has shown that babies who start sleeping through the night too soon are more likely to wean prematurely. Again this is due to a mother's milk supply. While some mothers may be able to get a good 8 hours and still have plenty of milk, most of us need the night time feeding in order to keep up our supply. Now I know this is not a popular idea. The appeal of Babywise is that you get to SLEEP! In fact the book talks about the horrors of sleep deprivation and how it affects mothers. But guess what, new research shows that breastfeeding mothers actually get better quality sleep than mothers who don't breastfeed! The hormones released when you nurse put you back into your deepest sleep faster! God knew babies needed to eat at night, so he gave us a little something to help us sleep! Also babies do need those night feedings. Breast milk is digested faster than formula so baby's tummy is going to be empty sooner. And the fact is, you can't predict growth spurts. You never know when your baby really needs those extra calories. But your baby does.

The last issue and probably the most important to me, is that the book equates nursing with feeding. They warn against using "food" to comfort, saying it will encourage obesity by teaching your baby to use food to comfort themselves later in life. But you're not comforting your baby with food, your comforting your baby with YOU! And even as adults we know that listening to our bodies and eating only when we're hungry is a healthier lifestyle than eating on a strict schedule. We don't schedule hugs or kisses and to our tiny ones, nursing is one long hug. It's the way they understand comfort and security. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Now if you have used Babywise for all of your children and it has worked wonderfully for you, then great! Really and truly. The last thing I want to do is spread around more mommy guilt or make someone feel like they did things the "wrong way." Babywise can be successful, anything can be taken to an extreme, and most things have redeeming qualities. But be aware that for some people it can cause some fairly serious problems, and just because something works sometimes, doesn't mean it is the best thing for everyone.
If it didn't or isn't working for you, then know that it's not you that is flawed. And if you are a new mommy or mommy-to-be like I was, don't be afraid to follow your instincts. There is no spiritual or non-spiritual way to feed a baby! If you want a rule to follow, try this one: You can nurse your baby too little, but you can never nurse too much!

I think the heart of the issue is that somewhere along the line I got the impression that I shouldn't trust my instincts. That if it felt good, I probably shouldn't do it. And that someone else and not me, knew what was best for my baby. I think in our conservative circles we have reacted to our society's obsession with instant gratification and selfish pursuit of desire. To the point where we view any impulse or pleasure with suspicion. So when I experienced conflict between what the experts said, and  my own mothering instincts I went with the experts. I'm thankful that God gave me not only the equipment of motherhood, but the overwhelming desire to nurture my children. I'm learning that taking joy in my children is not an indulgence but the way it is designed to be.

Why You Should Listen to Your Children: Chapter One

Isaac comes to me crying holding out his fingers. I kiss them gently, and ask him what's wrong. He doesn't stop crying and run back to play as usual, so I kiss them again, and again I say, "What's wrong?" But this time I finally I hear what he has been saying the whole time. "Mommy, mommy, I got poop on my fingers

This little gem of a true story was my Facebook status a few months back. I think this will probably be one of the stories that I tell over and over in the nursing home someday. In all of the crazy moments of mothering there are just some that stick in your mind. Of course it might have been the taste of antibacterial soap in my mouth that really cemented the memory but something I have been thinking about lately is how lucky we are to have Facebook and other online communities where the small disasters and crises of life can be converted to instant entertainment for our friends and family. Say what you will about how technology is isolating us and replacing "real" relationships but there are a lot of moments when the one thing that preserves my sanity is the thought, "This is going to make a great Facebook status!"

First Comes Marraige Then Comes Love

Or Falling in Love and Other Fairy Tales


I love looking at my wedding pictures. There we are, young and tan. Jeff with his curly blonde locks and me with my "I just had my wisdom teeth removed for insurance purposes and have been on liquids for a week" diet. We stare at me out of those glossy black and whites with gooey lovestruck innocence. And I want to say to us, "Just wait, you have no idea what you are in for!"
I have a confession to make. You may find this shocking, but I didn't love Jeff when I married him. Of course I thought I did. But as I look back over almost 9 years of marriage (almost three times as long as I knew him when we said I do) and I think about how our love has been tested over that time. I think about when he was working nights and in seminary, I think about when I was pregnant, sick, hormonal and working in a call center as a bill collector. I think about when Caleb was a year old and I was pregnant with Isaac, and babysitting an 18 month old ( I remember throwing up in the kitchen sink with a toddler clinging to each leg) while Jeff worked two jobs. And more than that I think about the times when we were just plain unlovable. Times when we have been selfish, ungrateful and uncaring. Times when I have been that quarrelsome wife that probably made Jeff wish he was in the corner of the rooftop and he has lived with me with a little less than understanding. And before you get thoroughly depressed and stop reading this, I'll get to the good part! Through all these times we loved. We loved when we didn't feel loving, when we didn't feel lovable. We stayed and we worked and we made it through each trial and we came out each time more sure of our love and more secure knowing that nothing could shake it, even ourselves. Which is what brings me to think that what we felt for each other on our wedding day pales in comparison to what we have now. So much so that it doesn't even seem right to put it in the same category.

Carol Brady didn't prepare me for this. (But my mother did.)

A few notes of explanation may be necessary here. The last post was about two years ago, right after our daughter was born. It was Jeff's good intention to blog regularly but like so many bloggers his life got in the way of his intention to blog about his life. I on the other hand, had no illusions about my free time and no intentions of blogging. However every now and then the English teacher buried deep deep down underneath the mommy, the maid, the therapist, the preschool teacher and the kleenex, rears her ugly head and demands that I record some bit of witty wisdom I have acquired or some hilarious anecdote that needs to be preserved for blackmailing purposes. So today after shoving my inner English teacher down for last five years or so I decided to make an attempt.
I've been recently inspired by two of my high school friends, whose blogs are amazing. The first is entitled "Jane Austen Didn't Prepare Me for This" Her insights on life are so funny, and as I was thinking about my own, I thought about all of the expectations about our future selves that we have while we are growing up. We (by "we" I mean my fellow romantics and lovers of Jane) envision ourselves as confident and poised young women exchanging witty banter with eligible gentlemen until we are swept off our feet by our own personal Mr. Darcys. As much as I love Jane, she didn't prepare me for Ho Ho slinging winners of belching contests. But I was blessed to be given a persistent belching Ho Ho slinger, who showed me that what we expect is not always what we actually want and need.
At this point in my life I'm breaking through other expectations of perfection that relate more to myself than those around me. Now, after living with myself for 30 years, I have gotten to know myself a little better. So my expectations were not of Martha Stewart proportions. I knew I would not be feeding my family entirely from my very own organic garden, nor would I be making their clothing, or putting my home in a interior design magazine. I knew a little better than that. But I didn't see myself crying under a mountain of laundry either. I never anticipated my 3 year old would yell "boobies!" in the church foyer nor did I ever think there might be a day when I fed my children PB&J for lunch AND supper.
There are a lot of unexpected joys and troubles of motherhood but as I experience the ups and downs I remember my own growing up and the ups and downs that went with it. And I am a million times blessed to have a mother who tells me, "You'll always have the house, but the kids are only kids once!"
So I'd like to add my voice to the blogosphere as often as I can, partly to preserve the memories and partly to encourage or entertain anyone who is there or who has been.

Caleb was concerned today. He said to me, “Daddy, I need to stop growing.” Obviously, I found this most interesting. What kid sees a need to stop growing? Most kids can’t wait to grow, they think it’s great. I had to ask him why. With dread and concern on his face he answered, “If I keep growing, I won’t be able to fit in the house!” I laughed. He was completely serious. I told him his body would take a break from growing. I told him not to worry about out-growing his house, at least not for now. He was relieved.

Fatherhood!!!!????!!!!!!

Sunday my wife gave birth to our third child, Grace Esther Wood. I'm smitten.

Fatherhood: I love it. It's tough. But really I love it. One was a joyride. Everything was a high, everything was new, it was thrilling. Two was a wake up call. It was like, "WHAT WERE WE THINKING!!!!!!". Now for number three. We had our wake up call, now bring the pain. But also, bring the joy, the love, the fun, the chaos, and the challenge of being outmanned in a tiny little townhouse.

I recently read an article in Newsweek about a father suffering from post-pardom depression, for dads. He was relieved there was an excuse for self-loathing that his life was over. No freedoms, he was a slave to a screaming little being called his son. In the end, he divorced his wife, but came to grips with his responsibility to be a responsible dad.

I can relate with that. My freedoms have been restricted. No more spontaneous visits to my favorite mountain bike trails. No more weekend fishing trips. No careless spending. But, why have my freedoms been restricted. I've given them up willfully for something greater, something superior. I'm investing my life in someone else.

This is where I separate from post-pardom dad. At one point he wanted to trade the opportunity to love and nurture his son for all the simple freedoms of being an adult. Being a father is one of the greatest responsibilities and joys of life. Is it difficult, absolutely. The most beautiful part of the difficulty is having no choice but to totally submit to God. There is no better way to live life, dependent on God and serving others. Fatherhood is servanthood. If my goal as a father is to bring my family closer to God, it starts with serving them. If we, as dads live this, imagine what our families could do for God?