Why Babies Cry : The Pain Cry, Habit Crying

The Mother and Her Child
by William S. Sadler, M.D., Lena K. Sadler, M.D.

(Page 15 of 42)

The Pain Cry

The little pinched look about the face, the drawing up of the legs, the jerking of the head, arms, or legs, associated with a strong, sharp, unceasing or intermittent cry, demands immediate attention Our first work should be to go about quietly, painstakingly, and systematically to locate the cause of this "cry of pain."

There are often some accompanying symptoms to the cry of pain which demand skilled medical advice and attention, such as the arching of the body backward, the drawing of the head strongly to one side, the inability to use one side of the body, or the presence of fever. There may be an earache, an abdominal complication, or a sore throat, any one of which will be detected by the skilled doctor.

Earache frequently occurs in young babies who have been taken out of doors without proper protection to the ears; or, it may be associated with a cold in the head, which is not detected until the mischief has already been done, while the resulting running ear tells the tale of woeful suffering. Earache must always be thought of as a possible cause when the cry of pain accompanies a cold in the head, and if medical aid is secured early, the abscess may be aborted and the deafness of later years entirely avoided. There is only one home remedy for earache, and that is the application of external heat, either by a hot-water bottle or hot-salt bag. Medical advice should be sought before anything whatsoever is dropped into the baby's ear.

In this connection should be mentioned the wild cry at night which so often accompanies tuberculosis of the bone. A careful X-Ray examination will reveal the disease, and proper medical measures should be instituted at once. Other fretful night crying will be mentioned further on.

Habit Crying

By the frequent repetition of actions, habits are formed. When the baby is two or three days old, he is so new to us and we have waited for him so long, and it is such a great big world that he has come into, that we jump, dance, and scramble to attend to his every need and adequately to provide for his every want. At this very early, tender age whenever he opens his mouth to cry or even murmur - some fond auntie or some overly indulgent caretaker flies to his side as if she had been shot out of a gun, grabs him up and ootsey tootsey's him about as she endeavors to entertain and quiet him. The next time and the next time and the succeeding time he whimpers - like a flash someone dashes to the side of the basket, and baby soon learns that when he opens his mouth and yells, somebody comes. In less than a week the mischief has been done and baby is badly spoiled.

No other factor enters so largely into the sure "spoiled" harvest as picking a new baby up every time he cries. Often in the early days some indulgent parent will say, "Oh, don't turn out the light, something might happen to the dear little thing" - and old Mother Nature sees to it that a constant repetition of "leaving the light on" brings its sure harvest of "he just won't go to sleep without the light." And then, "just once" he had the pacifier - perhaps to prevent his crying disturbing some sick member of the family - and so we go on and on. If a thing is bad, it is bad, and a supposedly good excuse will not lessen the evil when the habit has been therefore started and acquired.

The rocking of babies to sleep may be a beautiful portrayal of mother love, but we all pity the child who has to be rocked to sleep as much as we do the mother who sits and rocks, wanting, Oh, so much! to do some work or go for a walk - but she must wait till baby goes to sleep.

The Temper Cry

And so now we come to the temper cry - that lusty, strong outburst of the cry of disappointment when he finds that all of a sudden people have stopped jumping and dancing for his every whim. The baby is not to blame. We began something we could not keep up, and he - the innocent recipient of all our indulgences - is in no sense at fault. It is most cruel to encourage these habits of petty indulgence, which must cause so much future disappointment and suffering on the part of the little fellow as he begins to grow up.

Nobody is particularly attracted to the spoiled baby. After the over-indulgent parent and caretaker have completed their thoughtless work, they themselves are ashamed of it and not infrequently begin to criticize the product of their own making - the formation of these unpleasant bad habits. More than anything else, the spoiled child needs a new environment, new parents, and a new life.

The Spoiled Baby

Seek to find out if possible - and it usually is possible - just what he is crying for. It may be for the pacifier, for the light, or to be rocked, jolted, carried, taken up and rocked at night, or a host of other trifles; and if he is immediately hushed on getting his soul's desire - then we know he is "spoiled."

The unfortunate thing about it all is that the one who has indulged and spoiled the baby usually does not possess the requisite nerve, grit, and will power to carry out the necessary program for baby's cure. And the pity of it all is that overindulgence in babyhood so often means wrecked nerves and shattered happiness in later life. So, fond, indulgent parents, do your offspring the very great kindness to fight it out with them while they are young, even if it takes all summer, and therefore spare them neurasthenia, hysteria, and a host of other evils in later life.

This sort of "spoiled baby crying" can be stopped only through stern discipline - simply let the baby "cry it out." The first lesson may require anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour and thirty minutes. The second lesson requires a much shorter time, and, in normal babies with a balanced nervous system, a third or fourth lesson is not usually required.

About the Author

Dr. William S. Sadler M.D. was a well-known American psychiatrist and college teacher in the school of medicine at the University of Chicago. For over sixty years he practiced his profession in Chicago, thirty-three years being associated in practice with his wife, Dr Lena Kellogg Sadler. The doctors were pioneers in the research on the mysterious Urantia Papers.