It’s recently been brought to my attention that I’m practising a somewhat controversial style of parenting. To say that I didn’t emphatically set out to be an attachment parent is an understatement of astronomical proportions. I had no idea I even was one until one of my frequent Googlathons led me to an article on Attachment Parenting (AP). One quick scan of the seven baby B’s of attachment parenting later and I’d conferred upon myself the title of Attachment Parent Number One. In all seriousness, the article confirmed that I’d inadvertently been following the basic tenets of AP all along. Who knew? Here I’m going to briefly touch on each of the seven baby B’s of attachment parenting and why they work for me:
1. Birth Bonding
Raffles went to extreme lengths to get a minute’s peace from her over-bearing mum
Unfortunately my Raffles and I were denied the chance to bond immediately after her birth. I have a hugely irritating heart condition that necessitated immediate transfer to the cardiac ward. Massive bummer. Raffles had a dusky episode in the hours after birth and spent the following five days in the special care baby unit. Just like her mummy, my little lady refuses to do things the easy way. These complications meant that skin-on-skin contact was minimal in the first few days. I know now that we’re more fortunate than most but I can tell you that no one on this earth felt as hard done by as I did in those opening days. Not being able to hold your newborn is a gut-wrenching feeling. I’m wincing now just thinking about it. As it happens, this prolonged period of separation didn’t have too much of a detrimental effect on the bonding process; Raffles and I took to each other like ducks to water.
2. Breastfeeding
Okay, here’s where the fun really starts. Lack of skin-to-skin contact made breastfeeding somewhat of an endurance test. Who am I kidding? It was a nightmare. I couldn’t even express for the first two days, let alone breastfeed. When I did eventually start expressing, an hour’s hard labour would yield the grand amount of 2ml. Nothing but sheer bloody-mindedness made me see the process through. I was adamant my daughter would be breastfed; not because I disapproved of formula but simply because, prior to birth, I had said I’d breastfeed and I’m stubborn as a mule. Breastfeeding has definitely been the right option for Raffles and I. We both love it passionately. Well I do. Raffles hasn’t said she does in so many words but all her cues suggest she’s singing from the same side of the hymn sheet.
3. Baby wearing
Most likely a direct consequence of the stormy start to our relationship, Raffles and I are now rarely apart. Practically never. When she’s not glued to me, she’s with Philip, beside me. I’m always with her. This isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, I know that. It probably wouldn’t have been mine either if that first week had been a little more straightforward. I suspect my extreme reluctance to be parted from my daughter might also be down to the lingering fear I have that my heart’s suddenly going to stop working. I’m being unnecessarily paranoid, I know, but God, when you have something as great as my little girl, you are LOATHE to be away from it. Anyway, I carry Raffles everywhere in this. As well as fostering mutual trust and closeness (well, indeed), it’s the most convenient thing ever if you’re forced to use public transport, which I am. A lot.
4. Bedding close to baby
Right, this is probably the most contentious aspect of Attachment Parenting. I didn’t set out to co-sleep with Raffles. No way. Frankly, I was categorically opposed to the idea. Three nights of disconsolate crying in the moses basket later and I was tentatively entertaining the possibility. A week later and Raffles was a permanent fixture in my bed. That was over four months ago and she’s still there. I’m not going to lie, I was nervous at first. I was completely aware of the safety implications. It’s just so happened that co-sleeping is the right sleeping arrangement for us. Raffles sleeps soundly if she’s next to me. I sleep soundly knowing that she feels safe and secure. I do all in my power to minimise any undue risk. I don’t let her overheat. Pillows are nowhere near her head. She’s never perched on the edge of the bed. Obviously. Like I said, it won’t be for everyone but it’s what works chez nous and, trust me, there aren’t many things that can’t be improved by a good night’s sleep!
5. Belief in the language value of your baby’s cry
I must say that, unlike practically every member of my family, I’ve never held much truck with the whole ‘they’ll cry themselves out’ schtick. When Raffles cries, I respond to her. Immediately. It just wouldn’t feel right to let her cries go unanswered. After all, she’s not doing it to be difficult. Well, not usually, anyway. When she’s happy and content, my little girl is a smiley bundle of giggles. When she’s sad, she cries. I don’t want her to be sad. Not now, not ever. I’m sure some people will think I’m intent on raising a petulant spoilt brat (hi mum!) but I disagree. I actually think Raffles is a happier baby because she knows she can trust me (or her dad) to respond to her when she’s upset. If she’s hungry, she knows she’ll be fed right away. If her nappy is dirty, it’ll be changed quicker than you can say “that’s your fourth wet nappy this hour!”. If she’s just feeling a little bit glum, she can count on bountiful cuddles. I know it sounds like I’m at her complete beck and call and, if I’m being honest, I suppose I am but I really can’t imagine doing things in a different way. Each to their own, eh?
6. Beware of baby trainers
I’m not really sure what baby trainers are. Supernanny and her ilk, maybe? I think we’ve established that I don’t fit in with the “cry-it-out crowd”. As far as parenting my daughter is concerned, I do tend to go on instinct. I don’t adhere to any strict set of rules simply because I find restrictions inhibiting and ultimately unhelpful. I listen to Raffles and take it from there. If that’s attachment parenting, so be it.
7. Balance
This one’s a work in progress. It may not sound like it but I’m actually a pretty laid-back parent. The three of us are an exceedingly tight unit. We’re mostly cheerful. We laugh a lot. Admittedly, the balance is probably tipped in Raffles’ favour at the moment but as time goes on we’ll shift closer to a happy equilibrium. Probably.
“Baby training? Yeah, good luck with that.”
Not Your Average Baby 