On Penalty of What
I never seriously considered buying a self-help book until my son was born. After a month of motherhood I found myself
looking online for any book, or blanket, or device that would get him to sleep
for more than a short stretch.
So I listened with interest when NPR recently aired two stories about babies and sleep. Apparently, allowing your baby to sleep in your bed is an ancient practice accepted in many cultures and also something that many American mothers feel compelled to lie to their pediatricians about. In those early days, I too slept with my son in my bed and lied to his pediatrician about it. I would have slept under a rock if that meant more than two hours of sleep at a time.
The judgment we heap on all parents is an important topic of discussion. But when I heard those stories on the radio, it also called to mind my time as a family defense attorney in Brooklyn. In family court, ACS (the child welfare administration) would often acknowledge that a baby could be returned home (or be allowed to leave the hospital with a mother who was under court supervision) but would refuse to allow the return home to happen until the mother could demonstrate she had a crib.
The mothers I represented, all living in poverty, could not always afford to buy a separate, “appropriate” sleep space for their baby. The ensuing separation of mother and child was justified by the superior importance of safe sleep.
Back then I redistributed many pack-n-plays. I would also openly confess my own rule-breaking when negotiating with ACS or pleading with the judge. Yet it felt dirty to admit my parenting “mistakes.” Not because I worried the system would take my kid, but because I knew that it wouldn’t.
The rules of parenting are actually impossible for anyone follow but the penalties don’t fall equally on the rule breakers. When I invoke my own parenting experiences in court it feels closer to gloating than commiseration.
So I listened with interest when NPR recently aired two stories about babies and sleep. Apparently, allowing your baby to sleep in your bed is an ancient practice accepted in many cultures and also something that many American mothers feel compelled to lie to their pediatricians about. In those early days, I too slept with my son in my bed and lied to his pediatrician about it. I would have slept under a rock if that meant more than two hours of sleep at a time.
The judgment we heap on all parents is an important topic of discussion. But when I heard those stories on the radio, it also called to mind my time as a family defense attorney in Brooklyn. In family court, ACS (the child welfare administration) would often acknowledge that a baby could be returned home (or be allowed to leave the hospital with a mother who was under court supervision) but would refuse to allow the return home to happen until the mother could demonstrate she had a crib.
The mothers I represented, all living in poverty, could not always afford to buy a separate, “appropriate” sleep space for their baby. The ensuing separation of mother and child was justified by the superior importance of safe sleep.
Back then I redistributed many pack-n-plays. I would also openly confess my own rule-breaking when negotiating with ACS or pleading with the judge. Yet it felt dirty to admit my parenting “mistakes.” Not because I worried the system would take my kid, but because I knew that it wouldn’t.
The rules of parenting are actually impossible for anyone follow but the penalties don’t fall equally on the rule breakers. When I invoke my own parenting experiences in court it feels closer to gloating than commiseration.
Comments
Post a Comment