The
Settled Baby
The First Six
Months
One day you
will find that you have stopped regarding your baby as a
totally unpredictable and therefore rather alarming novelty and
have begun instead to think of him as a person with tastes,
preferences and characteristics of his own. When that happens
you will know that he has moved on from being a "newborn" and
has gotten himself settled into life. Nobody can date that
moment except you.
A settled
baby is manageable proposition. You can tell how he likes
to be handled even if it is not the way you would choose to
handle him. You know what to expect from him even if it is the
worst. You know what frightens him even if it is almost
everything. Above all, you can tell when he is happy,
however seldom that may be, and when he is miserable, even if
that is almost always. So once your baby is settled you know
what you are up against. Instead of trying to survive from hour
to hour, get through another day, avoid thinking about another
week, you can begin to work and plan for reasonable compromises
between his needs and those of everyone
else.
The baby
will make it clear that his prime need is for people,
in the shape of you, his constant caretakers. Your love for him
may still be problematic, but the dawn of his attachment to you
is a matter of sheer necessity. If he is to survive, he has to
attach himself to you and ensure that you take care of
him. As these first few weeks pass, his interest in people
becomes increasingly obvious. Your face fascinates him. Every
time it comes within his short focusing range he studies it
intently from hairline to mouth, finishing by gazing into your
eyes. He listens intently to your voice, kicking a little when
he hears it, or freezing into immobility as he tries to locate
its source. Soon he will turn his eyes and his head to see who
is talking. If you pick him up, he stops crying. If you will
cuddle and walk him, he remains content. Whatever else he likes
or needs, he clearly likes and needs you. You can begin to have
some confidence in yourselves as the parents of this new human
being.
But in case
these settled responses to your devoted care are not enough to
keep you caring, the baby has a trump card still to play.
Somewhere between four and eight weeks he is going to
smile at you. One day, when he is studying your face in his
intent and serious way, he scans down to your mouth and back to
your eyes as usual. But as he gazes, his face slowly begins to
flower into the small miracle of a wide toothless grin that
totally transforms it. For most parents, that's it. He is
the most beautiful baby in the world even if his head
is still crooked, and the most lovable baby in the
world however often he wakes in the night. Few adults can
resist a baby's new smiling. Even the most reluctantly dutiful
visitors have been known to sneak back to the cribside to
try for one more smile, all for themselves. . .
.
When the
baby smiles it looks like love, but he cannot truly love you
yet because he does not know one person from another. His early
smiles are an insurance policy against neglect and for pleasant
social attention. The more he smiles and gurgles and waves his
fists at people, the more they will smile and talk to him. The
more attention people pay him, the more he will respond. He
will tie them ever closer with his throat-catching grins and
his heart-rendingly quivery lower lip. His responses create a
self-sustaining circle, his smiles leading to your smiles and
yours to more from him.
There is no
harm in assuming that these enchanting early smiles are meant
for you personally. They soon will be. It is through pleasant
social interaction with adults, who find him rewarding and
therefore pay him attention, that the baby moves on from
being interested in people in general to being able to
recognize and attach himself to particular one. By
the time he is around three months old it will be
clear that he knows you. He will not smile at you and whimper
at strangers. He still smiles at everyone. But he saves his
best signs of favor, the smiliest smiles, for you. He becomes
both increasingly sociable and increasingly fussy about whom he
will socialize with. He is ready to form a passionate and
exclusive emotional tie with somebody and you are
elected.
Under what
we still think of as "normal family circumstances" most babies
select their mothers for this first love. But it is not the
blood-tie which gives you the privilege. The privilege has to
be earned. You earn it not so much by being his mother
as by mothering him. And mothering does not just mean
taking physical care of him. The love he is forming is not
cupboard-love, based on the pleasures of feeding. He will
fall for people who mother him emotionally, talk to him,
cuddling him, smiling and playing. If you had to share his
total care with one other person and you handed over all
the physical tasks, using your limited time for loving, you
would keep your prime role in the baby's life. But if you used
your time for his physical needs and left the other person to
be his companion, it would be the companionable adult to whom
he became most closely attached. He needs someone to
come when he needs help or company, someone who notices when he
smiles and smiles back, who hears when he "talks," listens and
replies. Somebody who plays with him and shows him things,
brings little bits of the world for him to see. These are the
things which really matter to three-month-old babies. These are
the things which make for love.
Every baby
needs at least one special person to attach himself to. It is
through this first love relationship that he will learn about
people and about the world. It is through it that he will
experience emotions and learn to cope with them. And it is
through this baby-love that he will become capable of more
grown-up kinds of love; capable, one far-distant day, of giving
to his own children the same kind of devotion he asks for
himself now. Babies who never have a special person, receiving
adequate physical care but little emotional response, or being
looked after by a succession of caretakers, often do not
develop as fast or as far as their innate drive and their
potential for personality allow. But provided he does have at
least one special person, your baby can make other people
special too. His capacity for love is not rationed any more
than yours is. The reverse is true. Love creates
love.
Even today
few fathers are in a position to receive their baby's very
first attachment because mundane matters like jobs prevent them
from being ever-present, always-responsive people. But a father
who can accept, support and encourage the unique relationship
between his partner and his child will find that there is a
unique relationship waiting for him too. It comes a little
later and it is built on the first, but it is just as vital to
the child.
If two of
you are fortunate enough to be able to share your baby's care,
the baby will respond equally (though differently since you are
different people) to each of you and his emotional life will be
both richer and safer for not being vested in one person
alone. If you want, or need, to share your time between
the baby and an outside job, you need not lose out on the
relationship provided that the baby remains - and feels that he
is - your primary concern. He need not lose out provided that
your part-time replacement is a genuinely loving, mothering
figure.
At four or
five months, a father who cannot be the person who is always
there and continually involved in the baby's routine care may
find himself especially valuable. When he does come home, or
stays home because it is a weekend, his face, his talk and
his play strike the baby as fresh and interesting. Because
he has not spent the day trying to fit a sufficiency of chores
and sanity-preserving adult activities around the baby's needs,
he may be able to offer more of the social contact the baby
craves. As the baby grows up enough to remember and anticipate
pleasure, a father can concentrate on building his own,
peculiarly fatherly, relationship with his child. Instead
of competing for the special mother-relationship, he can create
his own and may find himself with a prime place in his
baby's affections.
Many women
passionately enjoy this stage of motherhood. The baby flatters
you with his special attentions, making you feel special,
beloved, irreplaceable. He needs you for everything. He must
have adequate physical care but he must have emotional and
intellectual care too: play, toys, help and opportunity to
practice each tiny new ability. Whatever the baby becomes able
to do, he needs and will want to do it; it is up to you to
make it possible for him. Yet, with all this needing, his
hour-by-hour care is comparatively easy. He is no longer
irrational and incomprehensible as he was when he was newborn,
yet he is awake most of the day and into everything as he
will be once he can crawl in the second half of the year.
You still get daytime periods of peace and privacy and you can
still put the baby on the floor and know that he will
be safely there when you next look.
But some
women hate it. Instead of taking pleasure in being so much
enjoyed and needed, they feel shut in and consumed by the
baby's dependece. They yearn for at least a little time
when the baby needs nothing practical and nothing
emotional either. The continual effort of identifying with
his feelings, noticing his needs and padding his journey
through the passing days makes them feel drained. Once you
begin to feel like this, practical care seems easy compared
with coping with his loneliness or boredom.
Understanding your own importance is
both the prevention and the cure. All the vital developments of
these months are waiting inside your baby. He has a built-in
drive to practice every aspect of being human, from making
sounds, using his hands or rolling over, to eating real food or
roaring with laughter. But each aspect is also in your hands.
You can help him develop and learn or you can hinder him by
holding yourself aloof. You can keep him happy and
busy and learning fast or discontented, bored and not
learning as fast as he
could.
If you do
help him, you and the whole family will gain because the
baby will be cheerful and easy and a pleasure to have around -
most of the time. If you refuse to help him, trying
to ration your attention, everyone will suffer and you
will suffer most of all. The baby will be difficult, fretful
and no pleasure to anyone. You will be unhappy because,
however much you may resent the fact, your pleasure and his are
tied together. If you please him, his happines will please
you and make it easier for you to go on. If you leave him
miserable, his misery will depress you and make it more
difficult. You may resent his crying, resent the fact that he
needs you - again. But ignoring the crying not only condemns
him to cry, it also condemns you to listen to his crying.
So when you try to meet his needs, tune in to him, treat him as
he asks to be treated; you do not only do it for him, you
do it for yourselves, too. Like it or not, you are a family
now. You sink or swim together.
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