Please forgive me as this is quite off-topic, and not at all funny, but it is so monumental in my life that I felt I needed to share it. To make it a little more fun for you, I'll pop in some baby pics.
 |
| I do not want to be in this chair! |
Daycare Drama
I
gave birth to my first child last August. I struggled with having to
return to work, and was grateful that I only had to
return part-time. One of the downsides of returning to work was placing Baby ATHG in daycare. I did it, because I had to, but truth be told, it has never "
gotten easier". In fact, as Baby ATHG gets older, it seems daycare becomes more and more trying for me and her. In the beginning, "problems" were easily dismissed because she was young and needed time to adjust. She is now approaching eight months old and has been in her current daycare placement for nearly five months. My sweet, precious bundle of joy has been labeled "difficult," "trouble," "stubborn," and an all-around "problem". I've been told she's "not a real baby," she's "different" and nothing that she does, how she eats, sleeps, moves, or plays, is "right." And I hear this every. time. I pick. her up. For three days out of the week, I am bombarded with tales of how my child has ruined the day of our daycare provider and her assistant. I am made to feel incompetent and wrong in my parenting choices. For three days a week I listen to the criticism, thinking it is in the best interest of my baby to just nod and agree rather than stand up for her and argue. For seven days a week I worry and stress over it. There isn't a single waking moment that isn't spent concerned about my baby and her well-being and my decision to put her in daycare. I look at the other, "perfect" babies at daycare and wonder, "
why not my baby?" I watch my happy, cheerful baby at home and think, "
I just don't understand." I feel isolated, helpless and alone. I keep it all bottled up inside, afraid to discuss our problems with other people, lest they think I have a "bad baby." I don't have a bad baby.
This past week, things at daycare came to a head. I felt attacked, cornered, and bullied. I was told that if things didn't change, they would be forced to call me at work to pick my baby up. They offered an opinion on what they thought the problem was, which I felt was wrong. I attempted problem solving and reasoning with them, eventually resorting to arguing when they wouldn't budge. I told them I disagreed with their assessment of the situation and left. When Baby ATHG and I arrived home, I cried, and I didn't stop crying all night. I didn't understand. Why was my baby so different from all the others? Why was daycare so difficult for us? Why did I feel like they were singling out my child, picking on my child, and making me feel like a bad parent? Oh my gawd, had I become one of those parents? One of those parents who insisted, "but she's never like this at home."?
Identifying the Problem
 |
| Peek-a-boo |
The following day, I was a wreck. I tried not to take it out on my baby, but I felt myself putting physical and emotional distance between us, and I couldn't help but look at her and think, "
Why can't you just behave at daycare? Why do you have to make this so difficult for Mommy?" And then Mommy guilt would take over and I would crumble and cry. It wasn't her fault. None of this was her fault. She's just a baby trying to make it in a tough world of grown-up expectations. The next day wasn't much better, but we had company coming and Mr. ATHG was home, so I had other distractions available to me. At the end of the day, I sat at the laptop to peruse some of the baby-led weaning sites I had bookmarked when I came across a link for this,
12 Features of a High Needs Baby. As I read, something clicked. I couldn't believe it, but I realized that Baby ATHG exhibited every single feature (because they're not problems, just differences) on this list, some more than others, but it was as if I was reading a description of my own baby. I then understood what this meant. I have a high needs baby. To say that I was relieved is an understatement. As I continued to research and found myself identifying and relating to most of
what I was finding, a wave of relief so large washed over me that I was brought to tears. Finally, an explanation for everything I had been going through with Baby ATHG, but why hadn't I seen this sooner?
 |
| Tummy time is SO trying |
Failure to Connect the Dots
I would never call my baby "difficult." Although at times I would certainly refer to her as "trying" or "draining," but what baby isn't, right? Looking back on the past eight months, it's easy to see how Baby ATHG can be identified as a "High Needs Baby." Being unaware of the connections at the time, I viewed each characteristic as its own, separate issue, or non-issue in most cases. Evidently, I was given warning that Baby ATHG would be a high needs baby while she was still in the womb, "
Even while pregnant you may have gotten a hint of the challenge to come. High need infants tend to be full-time tummy-thumpers and bladder-kickers, as if telling the world even before they're born that they need more space." (
source) I remember lying awake at night for hours on end because Baby ATHG would not stop moving. Her constant need to move around was so intense, anytime I sat down, she insisted on flip-flopping in my belly. There were moments when I longed and begged for her to
just be still. Even for the first couple of months of her life she needed to constantly be moving. I used to have to walk her and bounce her and rock her and dance with her for hours. Literally. My feet and legs would ache by the end of the night.
Not only did my newborn have to move all the time, but she would not sleep, except for that one magical day while she had jaundice when slept for four hours straight. Swaddling was out of the question as Baby ATHG refused to be confined from day one. There were days when she would only sleep for an hour, days when she would only sleep in twenty minute intervals, and days when she wouldn't sleep at all. To this day, she continues to only sleep for two hours at a time. Nights are rare when she sleeps for three. I read many articles and books about babies and sleep, and it seems every one of them mentions the stage of sleep a baby reaches when they are "dead to the world," and you can pretty much jostle them around as you please without disturbing them. I envy the moms who have babies that reach this stage. Baby ATHG never has.
 |
| What do you mean I can't eat them? |
I also envy the moms who have cuddly babies. Baby ATHG has never been cuddly. Yes, she likes to be held, oh boy, does she like to be held, but she does not like to snuggle. She'll cling on tight when strangers are near, but under normal circumstances, she does not like to be close and cuddly. I don't see many hugs in our future, at least not with Baby ATHG on the giving end. The closest we ever come to snuggling is when Baby ATHG is feeding, which is probably why I'm in no hurry to stop breastfeeding. My girl found my breast all on her own after she was born and took to it like it was her job, which I guess it is. I sometimes joke that if this girl could be attached to the boob 24 hours, she would. It's her favorite place to be.
All the signs were there; intense, hyperactive, draining, feeds frequently, demanding, awakens frequently, unsatisfied, unpredictable, super-sensitive, can't put baby down, not a self-soother, separation sensitive, but I didn't realize they were indicative of a larger challenge. No, I really thought that babies were more work than I recalled from my baby sitting and nanny days and that maybe I wasn't cut out for parenting after all. But still, I did not view any of my girl's behaviors as problems. To
me, it was just the way things were. It was normal life. It was only
through my conversations with others that I began to feel like I needed
to try to change my baby.
 |
| I can do it by myself |
Re-Evaluating Expectations and the Unsolicited Advice of Others
When I was pregnant, I had visions of a bubbly, giggling, snugly, beautiful, blonde baby girl. I imagined her sleeping peacefully, playing contentedly, cooing happily. I blame it on the hormones, because I was certainly not naive about what life with a newborn would be like. I'd had plenty of experience with newborns over the years. I knew that the beginning would be rough. I knew that it would be a shock and require a life adjustment I could only barely begin to comprehend. I knew it would be hell, and man, was it ever. There were moments when I felt that the only thing keeping me from falling apart was knowing that I had a job to do, a job that I needed to do my best at. But there were still moments when I felt like an epic failure, when I wondered, "Why is this so hard? I was supposed to be good at this," and an especially devastating moment that I'm ashamed to admit to, a moment when I thought, "Life was so much easier before she was born."
I realized that I needed to re-evaluate my expectations if I was going to survive the newborn phase. In fact, I eventually threw all expectations out the window and instead accepted that I had no idea what the next day or moment would bring. I attacked each day as it came, and I placed the priorities of my baby before anything else. During the long nights of attempting to soothe my crying, screaming baby to sleep, I kept calm and told myself, "What do I have to do that's more important than this? This is what I need to be doing. This is what my baby needs, and only I can help her through this." Although I later discovered that the newborn "phase" was actually the norm for us, once I accepted this mantra, and my baby for who she was, my role as her caretaker became easier and more manageable. Unfortunately, this acceptance was not meant to last. Once I exited the newborn fog, I re-entered the "real" world, and gosh darn it, there are other people in the real world.
 |
| Where do you think you're going? |
|
With a new baby, people are bound to inquire about her. Is she sleeping
through the night? Is she a good baby? Is she babbling yet? Laughing
yet? In the beginning, I openly discussed (but I did not complain) my girl's milestones and
habits with anyone who asked. Little did I know, that by doing this, I
was opening myself up to receive all forms of parenting advice and
criticism. Rarely did I receive support for my parenting choices. We
co-sleep. You'll never get her out of your bed. She feeds all the time. You need to get her off the boob. She only sleeps for two hour intervals. You need to let her cry it out. She doesn't sleep in her own room. You need to let her cry it out. She needs to learn to sleep on her own.
It got to the point where if one more person told me I had to let my
baby "cry it out," I was going to punch them in the face and tell them to cry it out. I stopped being honest. I blatantly lied to people. Oh yes, she sleeps fine (when she's in bed with her mommy and daddy). Oh yes, she's a happy, "good" baby (when her needs are immediately being met or we're out in public). Oh yes, we have a daily routine (but it changes every day). With every lie and omission, I felt more and more inadequate and wrong. Even though it worked for us, I
began doubting my approach to caring for my baby. I started taking
others' expectations on as my own, and I tried to change my baby. I
tried to put her on a schedule. I tried to get her to nap in her crib. I
tried to let her fall asleep on her own. I tried and tried, and it did not work for us. My girl was miserable. I was miserable. Something had to change. I realized that the "problems" I thought we had weren't really problems for us, they were problems for other people. I stopped listening to others, and I started listening to my baby. I
went back to letting Baby ATHG lead the way, and life was good again. We
were happy again.
 |
| I almost got it |
Acceptance, Finally
My baby is a high needs baby. Let me say that again. My baby is a high needs baby. Knowing there is a term for it makes it easier to accept and tackle. Knowing that
we are not alone in this, that others have been through this too, makes it easier to accept and tackle. Having a high needs baby is challenging, but as my research indicates, there are ways to make life with a high needs baby easier and ways to ensure that the high needs baby will be successful in life. As it turns out, my instinctual approach to parenting Baby ATHG is the best approach. Co-sleeping, baby wearing, nursing... these things are beneficial to the high needs baby. Holding her, interacting with her, playing with her... these things are beneficial to the high needs baby. Everything that I do when it comes to parenting, I do for my baby, and I do it because I can see that it makes a positive difference and that she is benefiting from my parenting style, regardless of what my critics might say.
High needs babies aren't viewed by others as "normal". Standard parenting advice does not apply to the high needs baby. Unless one has raised a high needs baby, one cannot truly understand the unique challenges parents of high needs babies encounter. I will no longer lie or hide the truth about Baby ATHG's temperament. And when the critics pounce, because they are bound to do so, I will stick up for my baby and myself. I will be my baby's biggest supporter and advocate. I will fight for my baby when she needs me to fight for her. I will push and challenge my baby when she needs to be pushed and challenged. And gosh darn it, I will hug and hold my baby when she needs to be hugged and held.
 |
| Mirrors amuse me |
A Closing Note About Daycare
It has been nine days since I started writing this. During that time our problems at daycare, with daycare, became decidedly worse. Those close to us know what we have gone through over the past week. At the same time we chose to seek alternative care for our girl, daycare also asked us to leave. The "problems" they cited, in our opinion, were not problems so much as untypical issues that needed to be problem-solved, but daycare was unwilling to work with us. We are currently interviewing potential caretakers who will be able to give our girl the attention and care she needs and deserves.
Resources:
