November 14th, 2008 by Jennine

During the 17 weeks that I was on bedrest while pregnant with Daniel, I had plenty of opportunity to read parenting books.

One of the popular trends on the parenting scene was called “Attachment Parenting”.

The term, “attachment parenting”, was conceived by pediatrician William Sears and his wife Martha, to describe a highly responsive, attentive style of caring for a child. Attachment parenting promotes physical and emotional closeness between parent and child through what the Sears refer to as the “Baby B’s”. The Baby Bs are bonding, breastfeeding, babywearing, bedsharing and boundary building.

Sounds good, right? What good mother wouldn’t want to promote physical and emotional closeness with her baby?

After reading about Attachment Parenting, I had no idea how I had managed to raise Kaitlyn and Kevin so well without incorporating the Baby B’s. I felt guilt for having them sleep in cribs and for not wearing them on my body 24/7.

So I immediately placed a call to the Le Leche League, bought a baby sling and moved all of our mattresses to one room- the new family bedroom. I was on a mission to bond like we have never bonded before.

Darren’s objections to the new sleeping arrangement were met with my response of “What? You don’t want to be the best parent you can be? You don’t want to give our children a safe, nurturing environment in which to grow? what is wrong with you??”

It’s hard to argue with that kind of logic, and the threat of soup cans being thrown at his head.

After Daniel came home from the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, I transformed into the poster child for AP. I wore Daniel in the sling every waking moment. I nursed him if he so much as whimpered, whether he was hungry or not. I refused to leave him, even for a moment, in the care of my mother, mother-in-law or empathetic friends. I mean, what if they set him down when they had to pee? He would be so lonely, so terrified.

As Daniel grew older, it became apparent that he needed me in ways Kaitlyn and Kevin had not. For one, I could not set him down. Ever. He lacked the ability to soothe himself. No toy could distract him from his need to be in my arms at all times and since I was bound by the Attachment Parenting laws to respond to every cry, I became a bond-slave to my child. He was the boss of me, had little need for his father, and no relationships with his extended family who desperately wanted to nurture him.

Secondly, Daniel had no schedule or routine. Our world revolved around his needs and wants.

I breastfed Daniel until he was old enough to tap on my breast and say “Hey! Is this thing on?” like a comedian tapping a microphone in a redneck bar.

All of this crazy behavior was fully sanctioned by experts and other elite AP moms who judged each other by deciding who was the biggest martyr for their child.

Now, I’m not saying that bonding with your baby is wrong. It is essential. I’m also not saying that breastfeeding is bad, nor am I saying that we shouldn’t respond to our baby’s needs with love. However, after giving the AP thing my full efforts, I can tell you the outcome:

I ended up hurting my son by making him the center of our world.

Daniel was a spoiled-rotten, demanding, inconsolable, miserable human being.

My husband was resentful of always being last on my list of priorities.

My family was hurt that I did not trust them with my baby.

I was exhausted and unhappy and always felt like I wasn’t doing enough.

I unfairly judged other mothers who apparently didn’t love their babies as much as I loved mine.

(This is painful for me to admit!)

After I finally admitted that my life was unmanageable and out of control, and after I apologized to Darren for having to put up with a nut job for four long years, I excercised a little common sense when Logan arrived.

I made my marriage the center of the family.

I established routines and a schedule for our new baby.

Everyone slept in their own rooms, in their own beds.

I let others be a part of our lives again.

I breastfed my baby when he was hungry, not when he needed a 98.6 degree pacifier.

I actually started sleeping in more than two hour increments.

And we became a happy family again.

That picture of Daniel up at the top of this post was taken at the height of my parenting dysfunction. We had just buckled him into his carseat and he screamed at me “UNBUCKLE ME ANYMORE!!!!”

He was the ultimate poster child for attachment parenting but through no fault of his own. It took us years to undo my mistakes when all I really wanted from the start was to give him the very best.

Edited to add: Daniel and I have had many conversations over the years about how my attempts to love him the best I could were misdirected and resulted in frustration for both of us. He gave his blessing on this post because he has a heart for helping others and, in the end, he’s just the best son any mother could ask for.