After reading Elrena Evans’s thoughtful Her.meneutics post, “Should You Let Your Baby ‘Cry It Out’? A Christian Response,” it was clear that Evans and I absolutely agree on one thing: unfortunately the so-called “Mommy Wars” are alive and well. I firmly support Evans’s decision to parent the way that works best for her family. But in a spirit of peace rather than war, I want to offer a different perspective on the cry-it-out controversy.
There are two camps that use the term “crying it out,” and it’s essential to distinguish between the two. One approach imposes a strict parent-driven feeding and sleeping schedule upon very young infants. The medical community by and large opposes this approach, due to the risk of stress and malnourishment for infants (see American Academy of Pediatrics abstract and article) and because of the profound discouragement it creates for many new moms. So let me be clear: When I’m talking about “crying it out,” I’m not referring to this approach.
But there’s a second approach to letting kids “cry it out” that’s worked well for my family. The AAP advises that a parent “respond promptly to your infant whenever she cries during the first few months.” When an infant younger than 4 months is crying, it’s usually because she needs something. Parents ought to always do their best to respond to these cries. However, around the 4-month mark, parents can discern between a cry expressing real need (“I’m hurt! I’m hungry! I need to be changed!”) and a cry of protest (“I don’t want to be in this bed! I want your constant attention!”). I believe there’s some latitude in how we respond to protest cries.
Right around the 4- to 6-month mark for each of our three kids, we let them “cry it out” at bedtime in order to learn to fall asleep at a reasonable hour (see physician Marc Weissbluth’s Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child). Our approach involved several evenings of agonized listening, waiting for the protest cries to end and for baby to self-soothe and fall asleep (until the first nighttime feeding). With each child, within a week or so, we had a good routine—peaceful sleeping for baby, and some moments of peace and a return to quasi-normalcy for Mom and Dad.
God cares deeply about babies and their emotional well-being, but what often gets lost in the various parenting debates is this equally significant truth: God cares deeply about mothers and their well-being. From my experience, women can find profound freedom in being able to put baby to bed, even if the falling asleep ritual involves protest crying. Freedom for a woman to affirm that her marriage matters (time to relax with hubby), her emotional health matters (some space to ponder, process, be), and her physical health matters (time to get more sleep!). Parenting requires ongoing self-sacrifice, but that sacrifice ought to always fit within a theological framework that upholds biblical self-care: honoring the body, allowing space for prayer and reflection, receiving God’s gift of Sabbath rest, and so on.
“God in his infinite mercy does not leave me alone to cry,” Evans wrote; and, speaking about her infant, “In time, I will introduce her to a Heavenly Father who is always there for her, immediately, every time she cries.” This is beautifully put and captures the experience of many believers. I heartily agree with Evans’s desire to communicate God’s loving character to her child through her parenting techniques.
The problem, though, is that God does sometimes let his people “cry it out.”
Alongside comforting Psalms and stories of deliverance, Scripture includes examples of God’s people receiving no response when they cry out to him for help, comfort, deliverance. There are times in Scripture—and in our own lives—when a heartfelt, gut-wrenching cry appears to be answered by silence, by distance, by nothing. The sentiments of Jeremiah’s lamentation and the psalmist’s plea are echoed throughout the Bible. Many devoted followers of Jesus have experienced a similar dark night of the soul—an enduring, painful sense that God is distant or altogether absent. (Read one woman’s powerful dark-night story here.)
My point is certainly not that we should make our children feel desolate and alone since many Christians sometimes do in their relationship with God! Rather, the comparison reveals the inherent danger in viewing God’s divine parenting as the model we parallel in our homes. Though we certainly should aim to embody godly characteristics, theologically speaking, we must tread very cautiously in comparing God’s divine parenting with our own limited efforts.
As a mom of three, I’ve come to rely on two essential survival tools for parenting: salt and grace.
The salt comes in our approach to the myriad parenting philosophies and theories clamoring for adherence. You are a good mom if … If you really love your child, you’ll … If you want to parent biblically, than you must … Enough already! Taking it all with a grain of salt, or maybe a farm-sized saltlick, enables moms to glean valuable information, discard what doesn’t work for their family, and move on in freedom.
And the grace: Of course we need and rely upon the grace of Christ, but I’m talking about grace for oneself as a mom. Way too many moms secretly struggle with feelings of guilt and failure. Parenting decisions can be messy and unclear at times, but have grace for yourself. If needed, toss the parenting books out the window, and simply love on your kid.
And don’t neglect to love on yourself. Motherhood is extremely taxing, adding intense and ongoing sleep deprivation to the roller-coaster emotions, post-pregnancy hormone fluctuations, and relationship-topsy-turvy that come after having a baby. It is okay—existentially, theologically, physiologically—to let your kid protest cry at an appropriate age in order to train him to sleep, so that you can lean back on the couch, snuggle up with your husband, laugh at a corny sitcom, before getting some sleep of your own.
Kelli B. Trujillo is the author of The Busy Mom’s Guide to Spiritual Survival and Faith-Filled Moments: Helping Kids See God in Everyday Life. She lives with her family in Indianapolis where she works from home as a freelance writer and editor and blogs about spiritual formation and family life. Managing editor of downloads for Kyria.com, Kelli is also a member of the Redbud Writers Guild.
