Do you sometimes 'blank' on a word?
We were gathering for dinner in a restaurant with other parents from Younger Teen’s high school while our children attended the homecoming dance. A tall attorney father asked this question when he arrived at the table: “what is that word for what happens when a baby bird attaches to the first thing it sees after hatching?”
Momentary low murmur among most of us just before my awardwinningscienceteacher Studly Hubby correctly answered “imprint”. (From the Encarta online dictionary: establish social attachments -zoology intransitive verb to learn an attraction to members of the same species or substitutes very early in life.)
This is a long overdue beginning post on the meaning of “attachment” in child development. Overdue by about 10 months since Julie (my very first commenter eva!) left this comment:
I haven't written a lot about attachment therapy on my blog. I rejected it long before I started blogging. But, if you would like to read a scholarly review of what "attachment therapy" means in the world of adoption and behavior disorder, I would recommend: Report of the APSAC Task Force on Attachment Therapy, Reactive Attachment Disorder, and Attachment Problems. (This article is available to review for a fee.)
My expertise is not in family counseling despite having a pretty good grasp of the theoretical underpinnings for techniques used by counselors and psychologists. [Intended to sound like a disclaimer.] I use my understanding to give support to parents who struggle with the kinds of child diagnoses for which I have a LOT of expertise. That said, Julie’s rejection of attachment therapy is enough for me to be skeptical of it. [Read Julie’s blog to form your own opinion of her as a very well-informed mother.]
Terri Mauro gives a good enough explanation of attachment therapy – adding support for Julie’s rejection of the technique. And while Julie’s comment referred to therapy for children who have been labeled as having an attachment disorder, I decided to define attachment sans disorder. With just a little of internet searching, I found that attachment is one of those words that changes meaning depending on which other word is, uhm, attached to it.
Take attachment parenting. [Please.]
“Attachment parenting for me means that my child’s needs and my relationship with my child are the first considerations in any parenting decision I make.”
[Working hard to not digress here.]
So surrounding the idea that a child attaches to their parent(s) is that the parent promotes the attachment through certain lifestyle decisions, and if the child does not attach well, there may be problems for which some people prescribe (attachment) therapy.
[Could we know this without volumes of behavioral research?]
Subtitle: Do humans imprint?
Apparently not in the same way as dragons birds – or in an instant with a reflexive and permanent orientation.
In the definition near the top, the word learn was included.
A baby naturally focuses on the faces and learns the face(s) of those who care for him most. And from what I know of brain development, repeated experience with those faces results in physical changes in the brain (aka learning). Learning is indeed the mechanism for attachment between a child and parent.
In all the words attached to attachment what about the effect the baby has on the parent?
I wonder about when the parent does not attach to her child. I’m thinking that failure for the parent to attach is part of the flaw leading to a behavioral diagnosis and the need for therapy.
I have some more ideas on the concept of attachment. I’m interested in whatever you know or think, too. [Hint, hint.]
In other news, Candace extended the deadline for her Miracle Veterans Contest. She has a lovely prize for someone who enters their miracle story into her contest.
Speaking of contests – I won! Over at Ralph and the Crew, Stephanie picked my name to win the book: Gifts 2: How People with Down Syndrome Enrich the World. Look for me to giveaway this book to someone else after I enjoy it.
This time last year at TherExtras:
For the Bird(s)








Personally, I think nothing is harder than getting attached to a baby who is hospitalized. The entire normal process of getting to know your baby is disrupted. In my case, both of us were heavily drugged. Surgical interventions made holding Charlie both difficult and uncomforable for him. And then all the stress really pumps up your flight or fight response. The first time I put Charlie is the bathtub I completely freaked out when he started crying--everything up until then had been an emergency and I couldn't process that this was just normal baby crying. I had to have other people bathe him for months.
Whew! I really have an opinion on this topic, don't I?
Posted by: Katy | November 04, 2009 at 02:38 PM
A valid and intuitive opinion, Katy. Interference with attachment is exactly where I was going in the next post. Thank you for the segue!
Posted by: The Barbara who lives here | November 04, 2009 at 02:48 PM
Thanks for the plug, Dr. Boucher! I sure can use it! On to your post and my thoughts....I can see where Katy is coming from. Although Faith was in a medically induced coma for many days and it was a day and change before I was able to make the trip to her side, I had an instant connection to her. I had never experienced somethings so strong before. I "knew" her and her little heartbeat. She was mine. I don't nessessarily think it is that way for all parents who go through these things. It is definitely a challenge. I think that it can be complicated when med. staff are in the driver's seat. I felt very robbed of our bonding experiences but we made up for them! When dr's and nurses are telling you that you can't hold your baby or you can't participate in their care, it is unnerving! We overcame all that, though!
Posted by: Candace | November 04, 2009 at 05:27 PM
You are most welcome, Candace. Thank you for sharing your experience, too. Transitioning away from a NICU experience is another set of emotional adjustment, too.
Posted by: The Barbara who lives here | November 05, 2009 at 06:04 AM
I remember worrying about how I would bond with Little Man. I knew we were going to be in the NICU. I remember asking 3 times in the days after he was born if I could hold him only to hear "no" each time, he was'nt stable enough. So I stopped asking. Then at some un godly hour of the night I was just standing next to him in his warming tray, holding his hand. Then a nurse asked me if I wanted to hold him. DID I WANT TO HOLD HIM?!?! I would have kissed her! Bonding was no problem after that. Hubby however, bonded with him better at home, and even better once he (Little Man)had several sessions with the therapist to help him get strong. Now, a year later you would never be able to tell that we had a bumpy start:)
Posted by: carla | November 05, 2009 at 11:22 AM
I'm impressed with the flow-of-thought in the comments. Carla, the story of your hubby's eventual bonding shows the intersection of time and place for bonding by a parent. You talk also about your bonding being heavily dependent on being able to hold (touch) Little Man.
All three stories reinforce to me the naturalness of attachment - not the sameness, but the naturalness of desire on the part of the parent and differences between men and women.
Posted by: The Barbara who lives here | November 05, 2009 at 11:39 AM
I remember the ambulance ride that I took with Ralph mere minutes after he was born. He was wide eyed and calm as I held him. That did it for me. I rarely left his side at the hospital for the next 7 weeks. I wondered from time to time whether he cared a bit if I was around or not!
When it comes to attachment, Ruby is an expert. She is almost always attached if you kwim. Seriously tho', bonding with her was much harder than any other child. The c-section is the only explanation I can come up with. It just made everything hard in the beginning. Harder for me than a seriously ill baby even.
Posted by: Stephanie @ Ralphcrew | November 05, 2009 at 10:51 PM
Once again, an interesting topic. I think it took me a while to fully bond with Bennett. I didn't get to hold him until about 4 hours after he was born and then it was only for 30 seconds before they wisked him off to NICU. Although we both came home 4 days later, my complicated physcial condition meant that he came home with my mother and Jim while I travelled by ambulance. Afterwards, I could hold him but I was excluded from much of the other routine stuff - I didn't even change a diaper for about 2 months! Other people walked the hallways with him and when he spit up or needed something I pretty much just had to get out of the way. I couldn't be alone with him (because I couldn't get him or me out of the house) for about 5 months. Overall, I felt like a pretty crappy mother for the first part of his life. We've bonded now but thinking about those first few months will always make me a bit sad I think.
Wow - I went on didn't I? Thanks for the outlet!
Posted by: Barbara | November 08, 2009 at 01:52 PM
I know this was a concern for Janette after Hannah was born. Janette was quite sick herself, and she couldn't visit NICU. I did, though, so Hannah had family with her as often as possible. Janette still felt badly about it, and she was concerned she wouldn't forge a connection with Hannah.
Today, Hannah is quite attached and vice versa. Mom is comfort. Dad is play (and singing). Really no different than what we saw with Gabriel.
Posted by: Dad @ Kintropy | November 09, 2009 at 12:40 AM
Blank on words? I do it all the time :).
Interesting topic, I agree with many of your commenters about the difficulties of bonding in the NICU environment. I cried when I finally got to hold my babies... I was sick and couldn't go see them for 24 hrs, the second day Cuddlebug was able to be held, and it was over a week before Bearhug was stable enough (doesn't sound like a lot but it felt like forever!). I remember doing "kangaroo-care" with them when they were able to, and it was awesome :). We know someone who was really into "attachment parenting" but when she described it, it was basically things we were already doing even though we didn't call it that.
"Attaching" with twins has its own challenges as every time I would cuddle with one, I'd feel a little guilty about not cuddling with the other, and vice versa... in that sense it was kind of nice when they didn't sleep at the same time so I could get one-on-one time with whoever was awake, although that didn't do much for my sleep :/.
Posted by: Danette | November 09, 2009 at 07:49 AM
Interesting subject. I bonded with Jude, but I caught myself immediatley looking at his head. I had been informed the stroke caused lack of brain, so all I could focus on was the size of his head. I was so worried that it just wasn't the right size.
Posted by: Jenn | November 09, 2009 at 02:38 PM
Sincere thanks to all who have left comments. I am working on the next post and you all have reinforced my intended direction for that post.
That eye-contact-thing does seem to play a role for the parent, too - like you said, Stephanie. And like (Bennett's Mom) Barbara said, her own status of being not well interrupted her attachment. Anytime, Barbara
Dad@K, that's a great point that with time attachment can develop even in the face of mother and child illness. And then the guilt is unwarranted, eh?
Thank you, Danette, because it happens to me, too. Kangaroo-care is an important practice in the NICU. Early NICU procedures were largely like other places in the hospital - families not allowed.
As a philosophy, 'attachment' parenting appears to have merit, but can be taken to an unhealthy extreme. I vote for each parent choosing for themselves.
'S funny, Jenn, isn't it, how focusing on one thing can take our attention away from an overwhelming circumstance? Sounds like a coping mechanism that way.
Posted by: The Barbara who lives here | November 09, 2009 at 02:59 PM
I was able to hold Nathan after birth and that did it for me. I whispered in his little ear that no matter what was wrong with him, 'mommy would always love him' .. then he was placed in an incubator and set off to the side of the nursery .. away from the viewing window .. left to die. Finally a social worker stepped into the picture and got our son some medical attention. You see, the doctors assumed he had Down Syndrome and might not be worth saving. Wrong assumption to a mama bear that had already bonded for a moment with her baby! That one moment of bonding had to last an entire month through countless surgeries until I was able to hold him once again.
Posted by: Mrs. Mac | November 11, 2009 at 03:28 AM
How very disconcerting to read that a mere 13 years ago, physicians were still choosing to set aside a child with DS. Believing that your whispered message gave Nathan strength through his surgeries. He had something to live for - his mother's love.
Posted by: The Barbara who lives here | November 15, 2009 at 10:13 AM