Why Letting My Baby Cry Helped Me to be a Better Mom

My first born, Charlie, didn’t need to cry to get my attention.

I answered to every gurgle, whimper and fart sound I heard from his crib.

Anything less seemed, well, negligent.

If I heard him fussing, I would stop everything and listen intently until I was positive he had settled himself.

Every whimper meant I would rush to his side and start patting his head.

And when he cried – no matter what time of the day or night – I went to him.

Every. Single. Time.

Sometimes, the reason for his cries were obvious and easily fixed.

But sometimes, he was upset for reasons that – as a baby – he simply could not communicate to me.

And I admit that I felt like a failure as a mother when I couldn’t understand why he was crying.

And like even more of a failure when I couldn’t get him to stop.

But as Charlie got older, I realized something that I think made me a much better parent… and a stronger person.

It wasn’t my job to stop him from crying.

I realized that there was NEVER going to be a time in his life where his crying would be easy to hear.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that, as he got older, hearing him cry was actually going to become MORE difficult.

If he’s crying because he’s tired, I can handle that, but what about when he’s a toddler and crying means he’s actually, you know… sad?

Or what about when he’s 10 and he’s crying because he’s frustrated with his schoolwork?

Or in his teenage years, when crying means that someone broke his heart, or the pressures of high school are causing him genuine depression?

What about when he’s a grown man, and he’s crying because he lost his job?

What I realized was that Charlie was going to cry… and I was going to let him.

I would be by his side, I would offer whatever support I could, and I would let him know that I felt his sadness.

But the decision whether or not to cry was entirely up to him.

And, as Charlie (and my other children) have grown older, I’ve come to realize just how wise the decision to let them cry has been.

I don’t need to run to them every time they’re upset.

I don’t have to predict and prevent every accident… or bribe their teachers… or hunt down heartless ex-girlfriends.

I just need to offer my love, my support, and my empathy, and let them know that I’m there for them if they want to talk, or need a hug or a shoulder to cry on.

And that’s an offer that’s valid whether they’re five years old or fifty.

Looking back on it now, I almost feel bad for trying to stop Charlie from crying in those first few months.

It kinda feels like telling a depressed friend, “Listen, I know you’re upset and I’ll help you if I can, but please…just stop talking about it!”

Don’t get me wrong. The sound of a crying baby will never be something I want as my ringtone.

But believe me when I tell you that letting my kids cry when they need to has – oddly enough – made us all a little happier.