I’m washing my face and LP is sitting on the bathmat. We’re chatting.
“Babies can’t talk so they just cry instead,” I tell him.
“Why can’t they talk?,” he asks. “They haven’t learned how… Crying is the only way they can communicate. As a baby, you were crying SO MUCH… Just… all the time!,” I add with a smile.
“Why?” He seems surprised. “Oh, mon loup, if only I knew…”
He thinks for a second, then blankly tells me, his voice sort of authoritative and even a little reproachful: “I didn’t like my crib. It was dark and I was ALL ALONE… I hated it.”
…
And even though I don’t think it’s technically possible that he remembers, I must say I feel the hair on the back of my arms raise a little. And this instantly brings me back to something I never wrote much about, the time when he was six months old and we were trying to get him to sleep through the night by “letting him cry out”. Plainly spoken, one of our darkest parenting phases, even as these whole months were a bit of a blur of extreme fussiness and constant inconsolable crying.
We went on with it for a about 10 days, before stopping because things kept getting worse, and we were absolutely broken, and it felt completely, totally, heartwrenchingly wrong. It's not that I couldn't bear him crying: I just said it, he was crying all. the. time. It's the horrible state he was working himself into, which in hindsight we should have never, ever, let happen... He just wasn't calming down, for hours and hours, choking, retching, reaching a state where there was no turning back. Our instinct hinted what even the cry-it-out gurus later confirmed: it simply doesn’t work on babies like that, who are that intense and sensitive and high-needs. This was a definitive turn, after which we’ve learned to trust ourselves much more than everything else we’d heard, and found that you needed to adapt your style to your baby’s; ours was just naturally much happier the more we leaned toward attachment parenting (without fully embracing the whole philosophy).
Someone once told me my son was an “old soul,” and even though I don’t really believe in these things I kind of see some truth in it. I had sensed very early on (without really putting words on it) that LP, inexplicably, didn’t have innate complete emotional security, and this is something we’ve always tried to go the extra mile to fulfill, knowing that it needed to be prioritized over a lot of other things (like our own sleep for a few more months). Although I’m sure we’ll have more periods when this will somehow resurface, I think we’ve succeeded a great deal, and I’m really proud of this quite balanced, mostly relaxed child he has become.
I know cry-it-out has worked for a lot of people and I think it’s great for them. But you have no idea how much I regret having gone through with it, having sent him this completely counter-intuitive message that we weren’t there for him when he needed us, when he simply wasn’t ready to self-settle yet.
I know what he said couldn’t have been a real memory; or could it? Anyway, writing about it still somewhat gives me the chills.
7 comment(s):
Wow, isn't that eerie? Who knows if he's still able to access those memories? LP is such a sensitive, intuitive little guy, maybe he does. From your posts he has always seemed so wise! Like you, being a mother has really showed me that every child has a different temperament and needs different kinds of tactics. Michael has made me rethink all my previous convictions about parenthood.
As far as cry it out, you didn't know whether it would work or not. We all have to try different things at different times with our kids. Some work, some don't.
I know Rose has memories from events that occured a little before she turned two (when we went on vacation to Cuba). She sometimes talks about the crabs and the green lizard on the balcony. So yes LP can remember that he was scared in the dark.
Rose was a kid I could let cry for few minutes. She always stopped after a while and went back to sleep by herself. But with Lea it was totally different. Even since I acted the same way with both babies, Lea was much more insecure. So I couldn't let her cry. I think it's just part of their personality.
Thank you for writing this! I am a very new parent (Lucy is only 3 months old) but even with all the new born trials we've felt the best when we've followed our own instincts and her needs. But sometimes the constant flow of advice from doctors, parents, and people on the street (how does everyone suddenly know what's best for your baby?!) can be discouraging and we question ourselves. This reconfirmed that we need to trust our baby!
I have memories from before I was 2, I believe it has to be possible. I can recall details of two different places we lived and a few little events that happened.
If he said he was afraid in his crib then I think it must be true, it seems like a random thing to just imagine for a child.
The brain is a mysterious and wonderous thing!
Maybe on some level he remembers, but the important thing is how he feels now: safe, secure, and every day becoming more sure of himself. You did what you thought was right at the time, and when you realized it wasn't working, you stopped. I don't think we can ever expect more of ourselves as parents than that :)
As for crying it out, with Jack it worked very well, until recently when it's no longer just fussing as it was before, but working himself into the state you describe. Now, when he needs it, we cuddle him. We've gotten to the point where we can tell the difference between his cries, which ones to go to and which ones to leave alone. I think about it sometimes, how it must feel to be alone and crying and nobody comes, so I try so hard to balance between allowing him the tiny bit of independence he's ready for (which LP clearly wasn't), and granting him the security he needs. I hope I get it right.
I think it's possible he still remembers, and those memories fade more with time.
That sounds horrible, I'm sorry you had to go through it. We have to do controlled crying with Talia sometimes and it's horrible, even knowing that it works on her (so to speak) and that she's "crying down." It must have bee awful putting yourselves through it as he got more distressed. I'm glad in the end you realised your instincts are always right.
Wow I'm sorry you had to go through that and to hear him say that. Hopefully he doesn't remember that and if he does I'm positive that you've fulfilled that need in him to feel nurtured and loved. You're a wonderful mother. Don't ever doubt that :)
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