Aug. 15, 2001 -- "Why is my baby crying?" "How long should a feeding take?" These are some of the most frequent questions new parents have, according to best-selling author Tracy Hogg.
In her new book, Secrets of the Baby Whisperer, she advises new moms and dads on how to get past the insecurity and fear some have after bringing the baby home from the hospital.
Oh My God, We Have a Baby!
No event in an adult's life equals both the joy and the terror of becoming a parent for the first time. Fortunately, it's the joy that carries on. But in the beginning, insecurity and fear often take over. Alan, for example, a thirty-three-year-old graphic designer, vividly remembers the day he picked up his wife, Susan, from the hospital. Coincidentally, it was their fourth anniversary. Susan, a writer, age twenty-seven, had had a fairly easy labor and birth, and their beautiful blue-eyed baby, Aaron, nursed easily and rarely cried. By day two, Mum and Dad were eager to leave the hubbub of the hospital to start life as a family.
"I whistled as I walked down the hall toward her room," Alan recalls. "Everything seemed perfect. Aaron had nursed right before I got there, and now he was sleeping in Susan's arms. It was just as I imagined it would be. We went down in the elevator, and the nurse let me wheel Susan out into the sunlight. When I ran for the car door, I realized I'd forgotten to set up the infant seat. I swear it took me half an hour to get it in right. Finally, I gently slid Aaron in. He was such an angel. I helped Susan into the car, thanked the nurse for her patience, and then climbed into the driver's seat.
"Suddenly, Aaron started making little noises from the backseat — not really crying, but sounds I didn't recall hearing in the hospital or maybe hadn't noticed. Susan looked at me, and I looked at her. 'Oh, Jesus!' I exclaimed. 'What do we do now?' "
Every parent I know has a what-now moment like Alan's. For some it comes in the hospital; for others it arrives on the trip home, or even on the second or third day. There's so much going on — the physical recovery, the emotional impact, the reality of caring for a helpless infant. Few are prepared for the shock. Some new mothers admit, "I read all the books, but nothing prepared me." Others recall, "There was so much to think about. I cried a lot."
The first three to five days are often the most difficult because everything is new and daunting. Typically, I'm bombarded by queries from anxious parents: "How long should a feeding take?" "Why does she pull her legs up like that?" "Is this the right way to change him?" "Why is her poop that color?" And, of course, the most persistent question of all time: "Why is he crying?" Parents, particularly mums, often feel guilty because they think they're supposed to know everything. The mother of a one-month-old said to me, "I was so afraid I'd do something wrong, but at the same time, I didn't want anyone to help me or tell me what to do."
The first thing I tell parents — and keep telling them — is to slooooooow down. It takes time to get to know your baby. It takes patience and a calm environment. It takes strength and stamina. It takes respect and kindness. It takes responsibility and discipline. It takes attention and keen observation. It takes time and practice — a lot of doing it wrong before you get it right. And it takes listening to your own intuition.
Notice how often I repeat "it takes." In the beginning, there's a lot of "take" and very little "give" on your baby's part. The rewards and joys of parenting will be endless, I promise. But they won't happen in a day, darlings; rather, you'll see them over months and years. What's more, everyone's experience is different. As a mother in one of my groups, looking back on her first few days home, observed, "I didn't know if I was doing things right — and, besides, everyone defines 'right' differently."
Also, every baby is different, which is why I tell my mums that their first job is to understand the baby they have, not the one they dreamed about during the past nine months. In this chapter, I'll help you figure out what you can expect from your baby. But first, a quick primer on your first few days at home.
Because I see myself as an advocate for the whole family, not just the new baby, part of my job is to help parents gain perspective. I tell mums and dads right from the start: This won't last forever. You will calm down. You will become more confident. You will be the best parent you can be. And at some point, believe it or not, your baby will sleep through the night. For now, though, you must lower your expectations. You'll have good days and not-so-good days; be prepared for both. Don't strive for perfection.
One of the reasons my babies do well is that everything is ready for them a month before the due date. The more prepared you are and the quieter it is in the beginning, the more time you'll have to observe your baby and to get to know him as the individual he is.
* Put sheets on the crib or bassinet.
* Set up the changing table. Have everything you need--wipes, diapers, cotton swabs, alcohol — in easy reach.
* Have baby's first wardrobe ready. Take everything out of the packages, remove any tags, and wash in a mild detergent that has no bleach.
* Stock your refrigerator and freezer. A week or two before you're due, make a lasagna, a shepherd's pie, soups, and other dishes that freeze well. Make sure you have all the staples on hand — milk, butter, eggs, cereal, pet food. You'll eat better and cheaper and avoid frantic trips to the store.
* Don't take too much to the hospital. Remember, you'll have several extra bags — and the baby — to bring home.
TIP: The more organized you are before you come home, the happier everyone will be afterward. And if you loosen the tops of bottles and tubes, open boxes, and take all new items out of their packages, you won't have to fiddle with such things with your new baby in hand!
I usually need to remind mothers, "It's your first day home — the first you're away from the security of the hospital, where you get help, answers, and relief at the push of a button. Now you're on your own." Of course, a mother is often happy to leave the hospital. The nurses may have been brusque or given her conflicting advice. And the frequent interruptions from hospital personnel and visitors probably made it impossible for her to rest. In any case, by the time most mums come home, they are usually either scared, confused, exhausted, or in pain--or maybe all of the above.
Therefore I advise a slow reentry. When you walk through the door, take a deep, centering breath. Keep it simple. (You'll be hearing that a lot from me.) Think of this as the beginning of a new adventure, and you and your partner as explorers. And by all means, be realistic: The postpartum period is difficult--a rocky terrain. All but a rare few stumble along the way. (More about Mum recuperating during the postpartum period in Chapter 7.)
Believe me, I know that the moment you get home, you'll probably feel overwhelmed. But if you follow my simple homecoming ritual, you're less likely to feel frantic. (Remember, though, this is just a quick orientation. Later on, as indicated, I go into greater detail.)
Start the dialogue by giving your baby a tour of the house. That's right, luv, a tour, as if you're the curator of a museum and she's a distinguished visitor. Remember what I told you about respect: You need to treat your little darling like a human being, as someone who can understand and feel. Granted, she speaks a language you may not yet understand, but it's nevertheless important to call her by name and to make every interaction a dialogue, not a lecture.
So walk around with her in your arms and show her where she's going to live. Talk with her. In a soft, gentle voice, explain each room: "Here's the kitchen. It's where Dad and I cook. This is the bathroom, where we take showers." And so on. You might feel silly. Many new parents are shy when they first start to have a dialogue with their baby. That's okay. Practice, and you'll be amazed at how easy it becomes. Just try to remember that this is a little human being in your arms, a person whose senses are alive, a tiny being who already knows your voice and even what you smell like.
While you're walking around, have Dad or Grandma make chamomile tea or another calming beverage. Tea, naturally, is my favorite. Where I come from, the moment a mum gets home, Nelly from next door nips over and puts on a kettle. It's a very English, very civilized tradition, which I've introduced to all my families here. After a nice cuppa, as we call it, you'll want to really explore this glorious creature you've given birth to.
Convince all but a few very close relatives and friends to stay away for the first few days. If parents are in from out of town, the greatest thing they can do for you is cook, clean, and run errands. Let them know in a kind way that you'll ask for their help with the baby if you need it, but that you'd like to use this time to get to know your little one on your own.
Give your baby a sponge bath and a feed. (Information and advice about feeding is in Chapter 4, sponge bathing on pages 156-157.) Keep in mind that you're not the only one in shock. Your baby has had quite a journey himself. Imagine, if you will, a tiny human being coming into the bright light of a delivery room. Suddenly, with great speed and force, that little body is rubbed, poked, and pricked by strangers whose voices are unfamiliar. After a few days in a nursery, surrounded by other tiny beings, he then has to travel from the hospital to home. If you adopted him, the trip was probably even longer.
TIP: Hospital nurseries are kept quite warm, almost womblike, so make sure the temperature in the baby's new "woom" is around 72 degrees.
This is a perfect opportunity for you to pore over your miracle of nature. It may be the first time you see your baby naked. Get acquainted with his bits and pieces. Explore each tiny finger and toe. Keep talking with him. Bond with him. Nurse him or give him a bottle. Watch him as he gets sleepy. Start him off right, and allow him to fall asleep in his own crib or bassinet. (I have lots of sleeping tips in Chapter 6.)
"But her eyes are open," protested Gail, a hairdresser whose two-day-old daughter seemed to be staring contentedly at a photo of a baby propped up on the crib bumpers. I had suggested that Gail leave the room and get some rest herself, but Gail said, "She's not asleep yet." I've heard the same protest from many new mums. But I'm going to tell you straightaway that your baby doesn't have to be asleep for you to put her down and walk away from the crib. "Look," I said to her, "Lily's hanging out with her boyfriend. Now you go lie down."
From Secrets of the Baby Whisperer: How to Calm, Connect, and Communicate With Your Baby, by Tracy Hogg, Melinda Blau (Contributor). © Jan. 30, 2001 , Ballantine Books (Trd) used by permission.