Grow and Let Grow

Before the birth of my daughter I thought that having a child meant raising it and being responsible for its growth. But my daughter proved me wrong very quickly. Everything I had read and was told during pregnancy pointed towards the idea that I would soon be in charge of the healthy growth of my daughter and that, as with so many things, this needed to be planned carefully and in detail. This went from feeding to sleeping to playtime: feed regularly, but not too often; introduce solids slowly from four months onwards, and make sure she won’t stick to the breast. Teach her to sleep on her own as soon as possible. Straightforward.

However, the first two months after the pregnancy and birth were painful. As much as I tried to stick to my plans, my daughter had no wish to cooperate. Feeding every four hours? It was hourly, mostly, and almost constantly at times. Sleeping soundly in her crib? Sleeping on me – if at all.

The turning point was reached when I was so exhausted that I had spent three entire days in bed with my daughter, not being concerned about anything else but feeding her and sleeping. Suddenly, I realized that she knew best whether she was hungry, sleepy or ready for a little interaction. It was not on me to find the right time, but rather to interpret her signals and trust her. Trust that she would know when she had had enough milk, despite only drinking for five minutes per side instead of 12; trust that she knew that her place was on me – literally – rather than somewhere else around the house.

She started to grow and I tried to let her. I let her grow, while I started to grow myself. I had to learn that she was an independent person with needs of her own that had to be satisfied. This included my picking her up whenever she needed me. I needed to grow above my own prejudices and believe in her ability to grow independent as soon as she would be ready. Not listening to the voices around me, but our own. As soon as her needs were satisfied, both our stress levels decreased.

Indeed, she would grow independent sooner rather than later. When she had reached the age of crawling, she became unstoppable. She started to explore entire rooms and floors and call only when she did not find her way back. Despite our newly gained freedom, it took me a while to let her go and let her make her own first experiences. The same was true when it came to eating. She was not interested in any form of purées, but loved to sit with us at the table and eat what we had on our plates. This was against everything that I had heard so far. She could choke. She could fall down the stairs. She could be allergic to something.

But… she could also grow – and she did. It was not she who needed to overcome her fears, but rather her parents. I had to let her find her way and try to interfere as little as possible. The reward was big. With 12 months she went to day care and adapted incredibly fast. With 15 months she ate solids – including nuts – with cutlery. However, this was not all new to her. She had had six months to learn from her experiences, regardless of success or failure. She was prepared.

She has not finished growing yet now that she is two, and neither have we. The older she gets, the higher the social pressure that rests on our shoulders, telling us that we cannot let her do whatever she wants. Indeed, we cannot. But we can grow over these voices and listen to her needs. Often she asks for independence, and as long as she does not cross my needs too far, I will let her grow.

By Jasmin Heierli

Jasmin is a master’s student at the University of Zurich and works as a certified baby-wearing consultant of Trageschule Schweiz. She is member of the not-for-profit Verein Tragwerk ( www.verein-tragwerk.ch ). She lives in Elgg with her husband and 20-month-old daughter. To find a baby-wearing consultant in your area, visit the Tragwerk website or contact Jasmin at info@tragenimtuch.ch

Illustration by Susana Gutierrez

Susana is the mother of two little girls and a freelance illustrator. She can be reached at s.escapa@gmail.com