When What’s “Right” isn’t Right: New Parenthood, Perfectionism, and Trusting Your Baby’s Cues
It’s 3 am and I am half-dressed, half-awake, bouncing on a yoga ball holding my daughter upright, singing, “my Mama loves me, and I’m a child of love…” We’ve both been crying a lot tonight, and while my body feels wrecked – low back pain, the muscles around my left scapula threatening spasm – I can feel my nervous system sighing in relief that this iteration of bounce-sing-caress has soothed my baby for the time being. Let’s hope she can settle into sleep that lasts longer than 50 minutes.
Since six weeks old, Ellis has suffered from GI distress. First, it was gas and constipation symptoms. Now, at six months, we’ve entered reflux territory. It’s a disorienting and distressing landscape to learn. Her heartburn-ridden esophagus wants completely different holds and movements than her gassy belly needed. We adapt!
Adaptation has certainly been my and my fellow co-parents’* life raft, and it’s not a practice that has always come easy to me, particularly as I’m bombarded with experts’ and influencers’ opinions on how to best care for my child. Here’s a brief summary of (a fraction of) the rules:
Start solids between 4-6 months and do not stop once you start.
Once you start solids, do not stop. BUT babies should be getting all nutritional needs met by breastmilk/formula.
If your baby is breastmilk fed, include food that is high in iron.
Introduce common allergens, one at a time, right away, and keep them in your child’s diet.
Remember, food should be fun!
So much fun! I nearly had a panic attack the first morning after we gave Ellis solid food. We started at dinnertime with avocado. She loved the whole process and maybe ate half of an avocado spear in total. Unfortunately, her belly did not love it so much. She/we spent the night up every hour with gas pains. The next morning, my sleep-deprived brain short-circuited trying to imagine checking off each of the above rules while also honoring her tummy’s needs:
“Okay, we’ll feed her first thing in the morning in the hope that any gas that’s created can be worked out throughout her day. So, I need to have a meal ready for her by 8 am, and maybe I should try to eat with her so she has the experience of us eating together. I also want to introduce iron-rich food that isn’t too fibrous, because that will exacerbate her gas. And then there’s allergens…”
My partner, Ellis’ Baba, could attest to my frenzy. His go-with-the-flow, social media-free presence was hugely helpful in anchoring me into what our daughter actually needed, rather than what I thought she was supposed to need. He encouraged me to slow down and take this new routine one step at a time, reminding me that just like Ellis, we are also learning about solid food introduction. He also pointed out that, as ‘90s babies, we most certainly were not introduced to common allergens at six months, and neither of us have any food allergies.
With these changes in place, we found our footing for a while. Then Ellis started coughing, which disrupted her sleep further. Cue a drop-in pediatrician appointment, two antacid medications, and some at-home trial and error. One day with no solid food gifted us the most glorious night of sleep we had had since before Ellis’ birth. I fell asleep around 9:30 pm and awoke around 3:30 am to see Ellis’ Baba re-entering our bedroom. “She’s…still asleep,” he exclaimed. Neither of us could believe it. She had never gone so long – 9 hours – without milk or a wakeup. I felt triumphant! And, admittedly, a little on edge, because my nervous system wasn’t used to this spaciousness. Ellis was teaching her first lesson in listening over learning: her body knew what it needed, even when all the expert advice pointed elsewhere.
My brain broke. No solid food? Is that really the answer? Nowhere on Reddit, IG, Google, or any parenting blogs I knew of said, “follow these directions on starting solids unless your baby’s body tells you otherwise.”
As a somatic therapist, I wish I could say that I easily turned away from modern parenting advice – and the narratives in my head -- and toward my own daughter, whose tummy was telling me all I needed to know in that moment. But it was not easy. I bargained, “well, maybe just a few days off of food will help,” or “what about the allergens?! She needs to be introduced to fish! Surely a few bites of tinned sardines will be tolerable.” Wrong. Here was my tiny guru, embodying the very principles I teach my clients—that our bodies speak wisdom we must learn to hear—and I was struggling to accept her as my most important teacher.
My family and I agreed to more or less pause solid foods. We all needed some peace! Ellis finally got some as we slowed way, way down with solids. My peace, however, would take longer to arrive. My anxiety skyrocketed. Will she develop food allergies? Will she be a “picky eater”? Will she feel excluded as she watches us eat in front of her?
The anxiety spiral knows no end. Even now, writing this, I can craft 10 more worries. I feel my chest tight, my belly firm, my jaw tense.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Soften the jaw and eyes. Look around the room. Oh, yes. Here I am.
Just as I can orient myself to the here-and-now, away from my anxious thoughts, I can orient myself to Ellis – to what I see and hear in her. The strong communicator that she is, Ellis is guiding me toward a more intuitive, responsive approach to parenting that values her unique needs over external validation. In her wordless wisdom, Ellis is showing me that true expertise comes not from following rules but from the intimate dance of responding to what is.
I still read the parenting books. I still worry about allergens and iron intake. But when Ellis’ body speaks, I’m learning to listen first, and to trust what she’s telling me. I’m learning that sometimes the ‘right’ way is simply the way that works for us tonight, in this moment, with all our beautiful imperfections intact.
*Shoutout to my unwavering co-parents, Caleb and TK, and stay tuned for more musings on the joys and challenges of expansive family structures!
