My journey into observing the world around me took an unexpected turn this past winter. I found myself inexplicably fixated on the shapes of strangers’ heads, analyzing their roundness—something I had never noticed or cared about before. I began to wonder whether a rounder head contributed to a more appealing face or even influenced job prospects.
When I welcomed my son into the world, I naively thought that my days of worrying about his safety were behind me. There he was—pink, crying, and breathing. However, I soon realized that his survival extended far beyond mere existence; it encompassed his emotional well-being, future opportunities, and his ability to thrive in a world that feels increasingly perilous. Issues like school shootings, cyberbullying, and substance abuse seem far more prevalent now than they were in my own childhood during the ’80s and ’90s. Back then, I didn’t see many infants sporting helmets designed to reshape their heads.
One positive note, however, is that sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS) rates have decreased by 50% since the ’90s. The Safe to Sleep Campaign, started in 1992, advised that babies be placed on their backs to sleep in a crib with snug-fitting sheets and no blankets or toys, which has significantly reduced crib deaths. However, this has also led to an increase in cases of flat skulls in babies. The helmets some infants wear are intended to address plagiocephaly, which is the flattening of the head. These helmets are worn for 23 hours a day, only removed during bath time, and are adjusted as the baby’s head grows.
When my son was just 8 weeks old, I took him to a free tummy-time class, eager to show off my little guy who had lifted his head off my chest at birth. The therapist, a specialist in pediatric physical therapy, observed the four babies, with my son being the youngest, and scrutinized their movements. Her expressions of disapproval filled me with dread—an instinctual, full-bodied worry that something was amiss.
“Do you see how his head tilts to the side?” she asked. I thought it was adorable how he leaned to the right, smiling up at me. But suddenly, doubt crept in. Did he always lean this way? As a mother, shouldn’t I have noticed these things? My confidence began to unravel as she placed a toy in front of him and moved it from side to side. Circling him like a hawk, she grimaced again. I felt an overwhelming urge to grab my baby and leave, but anxiety rooted me to the spot.
“Do you see this flat area on his right side? It’s affecting his facial features,” she pointed out, highlighting his right eye. “This ear is slightly more forward, and this eye is narrower.” I nodded in response, although I couldn’t quite see the issue. Guilt washed over me; I felt like a terrible parent for not noticing a minor facial deformity in my child, whom I had cared for during those past 56 days. I berated myself for placing him in the swing and for not realizing that tummy time was essential.
After a visit to the pediatrician, it was confirmed that our baby was among the 13% of infants in the country with plagiocephaly, caused by torticollis—a tight neck that often develops in utero when large babies, like mine, have limited room to move. The treatment involved physical therapy sessions twice a week, and my obsession with head shapes began.
At dinner one night, my husband and I admitted to watching the shapes of strangers’ skulls as well. Nobody warned me that motherhood would lead to such unexpected avenues of worry; it often feels irrational, and keeping those anxieties in check can be an all-consuming task.
Fortunately, my son’s neck grew stronger quickly. Once he began rolling over at three months, he preferred to sleep on his belly. His facial features aligned, and the flat area on his head gradually rounded out.
As the oldest of five siblings, I never imagined motherhood would be effortless, but I also lacked an understanding of how emotionally draining it can be. My son won’t remember his head’s former shape, and I’ve come to realize that worrying over it was trivial. What he truly needs is abundant love, care, and play, all of which he receives in plenty. I’ve learned that motherhood is as much about nurturing your child’s growth as it is about your own personal journey.
Just last week, a woman complimented my son’s perfectly round head, and I smiled, knowing we had put in the effort to achieve it.
For those interested in the journey of home insemination, you can explore further at this blog post. Additionally, Make A Mom offers valuable insights into this topic, while Johns Hopkins Medicine provides excellent resources for pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
The journey of new motherhood is filled with unexpected worries and guilt, particularly in today’s world. From concerns about infant safety to emotions surrounding physical development, new mothers often find themselves caught in a whirlwind of anxiety. However, with time, love, and the right resources, many of these worries can subside, allowing mothers to enjoy the joys of parenthood.