You are learning about yourself as a caregiver.
The following vignette, adapted from Heart Start: The Emotional Foundations of School Readiness by ZERO TO THREE, illustrates how the care infants receive affects their learning about themselves and others:
Three a.m. A young mother hears a cry from her 5-week old baby in the nearby crib. It is 3 a.m. The mother’s initial dismay turns to anticipation of the feeding that will now begin.
The baby senses the lights turned on, feels the touches and the cradling of her mother’s body and, though hungry, begins immediately to calm from the cues that tell her that her discomfort is about to end. The baby nurses for half-an-hour, pausing between bursts of sucking and woozily gazing up into her mother’s eyes; the mother feels pleasure and recognition. During the pauses the mother speaks softly to her new daughter. The baby smiles, watching her mother’s shifting expressions. "Hi, Emma—sweet Emma—you are very pretty. You were hungry! Do you want more? Do you need a burp? I am happy to see you." The baby slowly begins to drift off. Her mother puts her in the crib, kisses her, covers her, and says, "Sweet dreams."
What is happening is utterly ordinary; a mother is feeding her baby. But what is happening to the baby is extraordinary. Because she is being fed, she is learning about gentleness and about cries being answered. She is beginning to sense the subtle rhythms of exchange with her mother. It is the beginning of learning that she is worth responding to, that she is important, and that someone can be relied upon.
"Shut that baby up!" A young mother hears a cry from her 5-week old baby in the crib nearby. It is 3 a.m. The mother tenses. She has just fallen asleep after a fight with the baby’s father. The baby’s cries rapidly intensify. "Oh, be quiet," says the mother exhaustedly. "I can’t take one more thing." The baby cries more and more loudly.
"Shut that baby up!" comes a neighbor’s shout from beyond the thin wall—"shut that damn baby up!" The mother slams her fist against the wall and shouts, "Shut up yourself!" She rolls out of bed and approaches the crib. "I’m coming— I’m coming. Damn it—shut up." She lifts the baby up and she quiets a bit. "Already think you can cry and just get what you want, don’t you? That won’t last long, I can tell you. Come on let’s get it over with." As the baby begins to nurse, the mother stares fixedly ahead, going over the recent angry fight. The mother grows more agitated as she recalls the details. The baby responds to her mother’s tension by squirming restlessly. Finally, the baby stiffens, arches, draws back from her mother’s nipple and yelps. "You don’t want to eat? Fine, don’t eat," says the mother and abruptly puts the still hungry baby back in the crib. The baby cries and the mother feels a surge of anger. "Shut up—just shut up." The mother leaves the bedroom, shuts the door and in the kitchen turns up the radio loudly enough so that she cannot hear the baby cry. The baby cries until she falls into an exhausted sleep.
This baby is also learning. She is learning that to be handled and held can be uncomfortable and distressing; that desperate crying may lead only to sharp and angry voices; that her needs and wants are not important and that there is no one to count on.
Of course, some babies cry ceaselessly even when they are held and gently fed. But studies show that babies who are cared for lovingly and responsively, eventually cry less and sleep more at night. When either of the two above experiences are repeated again and again, the effect on the baby’s sense of self and of the world are profound.