But my diet was just part of the problem. When I stopped eating dairy, Tom's reflux did decrease dramatically, but he was still very fussy, unable to stay asleep for long, and unresponsive to any of the calming tactics I tried during his long bouts of crying. The next stage in my journey to discovering how to help my child began with a strength that I never dreamed would come to my rescue as a parent: my ability to listen.

My acute sense of hearing is in part due to my very early exposure to music. My mother started my musical training before I was even born, by playing classical music while I was still in her womb. Then, as soon as I was physically able, she introduced me to the violin, using the Suzuki method. Since I couldn't read music at the age of three and four, my mother would play something for me and I would play it back from memory. Because of this ability, I was labeled as having an eidetic memory, which means that my sense of hearing is so precise that I can remember any sound or piece of music with great accuracy after hearing it only one time. Related to this ability to memorize music is an even stronger ability to recognize patterns. My skill and ease with music and pattern recognition led to my early career as a professional violinist and later as an opera singer. (Indeed, music is just that: a pattern created by the arrangement of musical notes.) My ability to pick up on sound patterns was also what eventually led to my discovery of a universal baby language.

Blinded by migraines and worried about my ability to be able to respond to Tom's needs when I could barely see him, I began to listen to his cries with such acuteness that I eventually discerned that certain sounds were repeated time and again. Gradually I realized that each of these sounds had a precise meaning that expressed a different need. The first distinct sound I recognized within a cry was "neh," the sound associated with hunger; it actually made my breasts leak.

Through trial and error, I identified a second cry, which sounded like "eairh," and seemed to indicate lower gas pain. A third cry, "owh," meant he was sleepy. I eventually isolated five distinct sounds, each of which expressed a different physical sensation and need: hunger, sleepiness, discomfort, gas, and a need to be burped. Once I understood the meaning behind his different cries, I happily fed him, burped him, held him, and helped him to sleep, essentially meeting all of his most urgent needs. Often I was even able to anticipate what Tom needed, thereby avoiding the crying altogether.

To make a long story short, over time I began to realize that babies everywhere made the same sounds that Tom made to signal the same needs. I'd be in a park and see a young mother looking miserable as she tried futilely to stop her child from crying. Based on my experience with Tom, I'd venture a guess about what the baby wanted. Lo and behold, the baby would calm down, and the mother would look at me as if I was a miracle worker. And it didn't matter what the ethnic group of the mother and baby was. The cries always seemed to be the same, across all cultures. I felt I was on to something that could help all mothers. As it turned out, I seemed to have stumbled upon the Rosetta Stone of baby language.

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Copyright © 2009 by Priscilla J. Dunstan

Tags: Babies and Toddlers, Parenting and Families

About the Author

Priscilla J. Dunstan is an internationally recognized parenting expert who has traveled around the world observing parents and children for her research. As the creator of a revolutionary infant-cry classification system, part of which is featured in the Dunstan Baby Language DVDs, she appeared on The Oprah Winfrey Show, the Today show, and several other popular U.S. television programs. Her sound advice has also appeared in articles that have run in Parenting, Baby Talk, and Women's World. A native Australian, Dunstan established her renowned parenting and family clinic, the Priscilla Dunstan Research Center, in Sydney. She has since relocated and now lives in Los Angeles, where she educates parents, health professionals, and academics from her new counseling center. She is the mother of a ten-year-old son. More