I thought I was going to be that quintessential “natural mom.” Growing up, my mother embraced practices like breastfeeding and co-sleeping, so I envisioned a similar path. I even planned a home birth, complete with a water delivery. When my little one arrived, my partner and I eagerly dove into the world of attachment parenting.
We invested in the attachment parenting guide, The Baby Book by Dr. Smith. He reassured me that I could never hold my baby too much; that a mother’s arms were the perfect haven for newborns. In those early weeks, our son hardly left my embrace. When he wasn’t nursing (which felt like every moment), he was snugly carried in a baby wrap or napping on my chest.
However, Dr. Smith never claimed that you shouldn’t put your baby down. He emphasized the importance of self-care for parents, but as a new and sleep-deprived mom, I missed that subtlety. I clung to the idea that my baby required my full attention at all times.
Sticking to that mantra didn’t guarantee my baby’s happiness—or mine. My son cried endlessly, especially during the evenings. I vividly recall one particular night when I attempted to nurse him, only for him to push away with his tiny fists. I tried to wear him in the carrier, but he resisted, stiffening his body against me. With my husband away at work, I had no alternative arms to turn to.
As I paced our small apartment with a wailing baby, I felt like screaming too. In that moment, I thought, “What would Dr. Smith do?” And suddenly, I found the absurdity of the thought striking me. Here was a kind man I’d never met, who had no clue about my specific situation, yet I was seeking his guidance while my baby wailed.
We had received a baby swing as a gift, and in a moment of desperation, I hurriedly assembled it (yes, while still holding my crying baby). I placed him in the swing and turned it on.
And just like that, he stopped crying.
Oops. I guess I wasn’t quite the attachment parent I envisioned.
The truth is, no one fits neatly into a single parenting style. You gather bits of wisdom from every resource, conversation, and experience, then tailor it to suit your family. Yes, I ultimately followed my mom’s lead by breastfeeding and co-sleeping for quite some time, but I also used disposable diapers, vaccinated my children, and occasionally snagged fries from the drive-thru.
Most importantly, if you fixate on any one parenting philosophy, you end up ignoring the voice that knows your children best: you. Our instincts are robust if we’d only heed them. As the primary caregivers, we understand what works for our kids and what doesn’t.
Of course, external advice can be beneficial. However, parenting is rarely a one-size-fits-all endeavor. Keeping an open mind is essential; embrace what resonates and discard what doesn’t.
I’ll always appreciate Dr. Smith—mainly because I did incorporate a lot of his advice (especially the part about trusting your instincts, a common recommendation among parenting experts). But what stands out most in my memory is the day I realized that parenting philosophies are nonsense.
For more insights, check out this great resource on pregnancy and home insemination.