Bed-sharing with Young Infants: Is It Safe After All?

Does bed-sharing with infants increase their risk of SIDS, even without known risk factors such as alcohol use, smoking, and co-sleeping on a couch or chair? A recent study makes what is probably the best attempt to date to answer this question. The study, led by U.K. researcher Peter Blair, was published last week in the journal PLOS ONE and is freely available to the public (yay!).1

Many studies have found that co-sleeping is associated with an increased risk of SIDS, but most of this risk doesn’t come from co-sleeping per se, but rather doing so in particularly hazardous conditions, such as on a couch or with a parent who has been drinking. However, there’s an important, albeit controversial, caveat to this conclusion. Several studies have looked specifically at infants younger than 3 months and still found a significant risk of bed-sharing even in the absence of these other risk factors.2–6 The current study comes to conclusions much more reassuring to bed-sharing parents. In this study, bed-sharing without alcohol, smoking, or couch/chair co-sleeping was not associated with a significant SIDS risk in infants younger than 3 months and even seemed to be protective in older babies. Both of these findings run counter to previous studies and to the sleep recommendations of the AAP, so they deserve a close look.mother and baby

How was the study conducted? Continue reading

Zero to Five: A Book Review and Giveaway

I received a review copy of a really cool book over the summer: Zero to Five: 70 Essential Parenting Tips Based on Science (and What I’ve Learned So Far) by Tracy Cutchlow. I loved the book and wanted to review it on my blog, and the publisher offered to give away 5 copies to Science of Mom readers! (If you’re curious about my policy on reviews and giveaways, check my About Me page.)

Author Tracy Cuthlow with her daughter, Geneva.

Author Tracy Cuthlow with her daughter, Geneva.

Zero to Five is a book of parenting advice starting with pregnancy and going up through age 5. Author Tracy Cutchlow is a former journalist at the Seattle Times and edited John Medina’s books Brain Rules and Brain Rules for Baby. Then she had a daughter, now 2, and was inspired to create a book that would bring together relevant, evidence-based parenting advice into an enjoyable and accessible format. I’d say she succeeded.

Each of the 70 parenting tips are explained in 2-4 page spreads summarizing the research in the area and accompanied by gorgeous candid photographs of children and parents. The tips are practical, and they’re explained simply, but they’re rooted in science.

ZTF-guard-babys-sleep

The book is divided into 9 topics headings, listed below with examples of some of my favorite tips in parentheses:

  • Prepare (Bolster your friendships; Expect conflict as a couple)
  • Love (Create a feeling of safety; Comfort newborn with the familiar)
  • Talk (Talk to your baby a ton; Read together; Teach sign language)
  • Sleep, eat, and potty (Guard your sleep; Guard baby’s sleep, too; Let baby decide how much to eat)
  • Play (Let baby touch that; Save the box; Make music with baby)
  • Connect (Choose empathy first; Allow mistakes, discomfort, boredom)
  • Discipline (Be firm but warm; Label intense emotions; Teach instead of punish)
  • Move (Rock, jiggle, and swing; Keep moving)
  • Slow down (Be still; Don’t bother to compare)

Some of these tips are obvious, like talking to your baby. But they’re also really important, and that’s one of the things I love about this book. Continue reading

What’s so important – and stressful – about family dinner?

A recent study about the stress of getting family meals on the table has been getting lots of attention from both the media and moms. A Slate piece, “Let’s Stop Idealizing the Home-Cooked Family Dinner,” posted Wednesday, has already garnered 3.5K comments on the article itself and more than 26K Facebook shares. This has obviously struck a nerve. While feeding a family is a big and often stressful job, some perspective about why we do it and what matters most about family meals might be helpful to families feeling the mealtime crunch.

The study itself, titled “The Joy of Cooking?”, was published in Contexts, a publication of the American Sociological Association geared to be accessible to the general public. The paper itself is a really interesting read and freely available online.

Researchers in the sociology and anthropology departments at North Carolina State University conducted the study. This was a qualitative study, which means that the data came in the form of stories, generated from interviews with real people. From the paper:

“Over the past year and a half, our research team conducted in-depth interviews with 150 black, white, and Latina mothers from all walks of life. We also spent over 250 hours conducting ethnographic observations with 12 working-class and poor families. We observed them in their homes as they prepared and ate meals, and tagged along on trips to the grocery store and to their children’s check-ups. Sitting around the kitchen table and getting a feel for these women’s lives, we came to appreciate the complexities involved in feeding a family.”

These kinds of methods are common in sociology and anthropology research, and they allow researchers to understand the many complex variables that contribute to how people feel and why they feel that way. However, we have to be careful about interpreting these studies beyond the individual stories that they provide. For example, this study wasn’t a random sample of moms, and it can’t give us quantitative information like the percentage of moms who find cooking to be an unbearable chore versus rewarding or enjoyable. It doesn’t allow us to look at correlations between family income and nights of home-cooked meals per week, for example.

Here’s what it can tell us: Continue reading

Caffeine and Breastfeeding

If anyone needs a little caffeine, it’s a new mom. My labor with Cee took me through two mostly sleepless nights, and when she finally arrived, we took a little time to nurse and get to know one another, and then our whole little family took a long nap. When we woke up, the first thing I did was send my husband to get me a latte. The second thing I did was breastfeed my new baby again. That dose of caffeine felt like good therapy to me, but what about for Cee? Was it good for her?

caffeine structure

Source: Wikimedia Commons

A few weeks ago, I wrote about the safety of caffeine in pregnancy, and several readers wanted to know about the postnatal effects of caffeine – how mom’s caffeine intake might affect her breastfed baby. I promised to take a look at the literature and report back, and so here we are.

 

When you drink a cup of coffee, how much caffeine ends up in your breast milk?

Several studies have examined this question, and although they are small, they give us a general idea of the transfer of caffeine from mom’s blood to her milk. After a cup of coffee, caffeine is rapidly absorbed into mom’s blood and then passively diffuses across the epithelial layers of the mammary gland. Caffeine appears in milk within 15 minutes of consumption and peaks within an hour. The concentration of caffeine in breast milk ends up being about 80-90% of that in mom’s plasma. However, taking into account the amount of breast milk consumed and adjusting for body weight, studies have estimated that the infant receives no more than 10% of the maternal dose of caffeine, and likely much less (see here, here, and here).

Is this amount of caffeine safe for a baby?

Just because levels of caffeine in breast milk are low relative to what adults normally consume doesn’t mean that these amounts are necessarily safe to a baby. Another important factor is how efficiently a baby can metabolize caffeine, and it turns out that newborn caffeine metabolism is really slow. Whereas the half-life of caffeine in adults is around 2-6 hours, it is an average of 3-4 days in newborns and can be even slower in premature babies. In other words, a morning cup of coffee for mom will easily clear her blood by bedtime, but caffeine may linger in her breastfed newborn for much longer. Metabolism gradually ramps up as the baby matures and the necessary enzyme levels come on board, and most babies can metabolize caffeine at rates similar to adults by 5-6 months of age. Continue reading

Getting our 3-Year-Old Back to Good Sleep… In 9 (Not Easy) Steps

Yesterday, I wrote about how we found ourselves struggling with sleep with Cee. We knew it was time to make a change, and we knew this meant asking Cee to fall asleep on her own at night, without one of us sitting in her room with her. This was not exactly a new thing for her; until the last 6 months, she’d been falling asleep on her own since she was a baby. Still, given how things had gone lately, this was a big change for all of us.

I want to share how we approached this transition, but I don’t believe this is a magic formula by any means. I don’t think there are easy answers to parenting challenges like these, and what works well in one family might be a flop in another. I am proud of how we thought this through and put a plan into action, and it has seriously given our entire family (Cee included) more happiness around bedtime. Here’s what we did.

1. Husband and I did this together. All of this would have been much harder without his help. He is great at staying calm in stressful situations, which has a calming effect on Cee, and he is thoughtful and empathetic. We also recognize that our relationships with Cee are different. He’s the more fun parent; he’s more lenient with Cee in many ways but is also very good at setting rock solid boundaries when it is important. I’m still the parent that she turns to when she needs comfort. This often means a sweet hug or snuggle session, but it can also mean being on the receiving end of a bunch of messy emotions. Cee and I also tend to end up in power struggles more often, something I’m working on. Because of these differences, Husband was the parent who initially sat down to talk with Cee about bedtime changes. We also made sure he’d be around at bedtime for the first few days (he often works evenings and nights, so this isn’t always the case), so that we could take turns and he could take over if needed.

The importance of a strong parenting partnership has been shown in the research. A recent study from Doug Teti’s Penn State lab found that one of the greatest predictors of high maternal emotional availability at bedtime (discussed in my last post) was the quality of coparenting, even when dads weren’t directly involved with bedtime.

2. We told Cee about the change. We told Cee that it was time for her to start falling asleep on her own again and that we wouldn’t be sitting in her chair anymore. We didn’t dwell on trying to explain why, because we didn’t want her to feel like this change was a punishment for previous bedtime behavior. We didn’t emphasize that big girls go to sleep on their own, because that might have made her wonder if being a big girl was really such a great thing. We simply told her that she used to fall asleep on her own, and we were going to help her do that again.

3. We asked Cee to help us make a new plan for bedtime. “How do you think we can help you with bedtime now that we won’t be sitting in your chair?” Husband asked. Continue reading

How My 3-Year-Old’s Sleep Fell Apart

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote that after I finished my book, I needed a sort of parenting reset with Cee. One of the big areas that we needed to work on was sleep. Bedtime had become a battle, and it was taking Cee a long time to fall asleep. This was leaving us all frustrated at the end of the day, and Cee was waking up grumpy in the mornings. I didn’t have the energy and attention to work on it while I was trying to finish my book, although in hindsight I’m not sure why we waited this long. Over the last couple of weeks, we’ve made some big changes to get us back to happy bedtimes.

Let me back up and tell you how we got into trouble with sleep in the first place. Last August, we moved to a new house. By this time, Cee had been in a toddler bed for almost a year, but she had no problem staying in it at bedtime or through the night. We had a sweet bedtime routine that ended with kisses goodnight, turning off the light, and then good sleep for Cee. After we moved, Cee started talking about being afraid of things like the deer and turkeys that wandered through the yard of our new house. We talked about these fears, got her a night light, and spent a little more time with her before saying goodnight, singing a couple of rounds of Twinkle, Twinkle and rubbing her back for a few minutes. All of that was fine.

Then Cee started getting out of her bed after we left her room for the night. She’d pad into the living room or my office to find me. I’d walk her back to bed and tuck her in again, but some nights this happened over and over. I would be shocked to see her in my office door at 9:00 or 9:30 PM, long after her 8:00 bedtime. She was also waking up during the night, coming into our room, and patting my shoulder until I woke up. I would walk her back to her room, often lying down next to her until she went back to sleep. Alternatively, I’d pull her into bed with me, but neither of us slept very well this way. All of this was adding up to fewer hours and less restful sleep for both of us.

When did the sweetness of a good nap become something to resist?

When did the sweetness of a good nap become something to resist?

Things seemed to get worse around the holidays. Cee was getting out of bed more and more after bedtime, and she was having a hard time separating when we tucked her back in. She started asking us to sit with her while she fell asleep, and this actually seemed like a reasonable solution. At least if we sat in her room we could make sure that she stayed in her bed, and maybe she would fall asleep easier and get more rest this way. I reminded myself that she was just 3, and if she was asking for more support in her transition to sleep, why shouldn’t we give that to her? (Never mind that she had been falling asleep on her own since she was a baby.)

There was something else going on at this time, too. I thought that maybe Cee’s struggles with sleep were because I wasn’t there enough for her in the day. I was going through a really tough period, approaching the 1-year anniversary of our first miscarriage and beginning some fertility testing. Continue reading

Caffeine Safety in Pregnancy

My first trimester of pregnancy coincided exactly with the last three months before my book deadline. I was lucky to have only mild nausea during this time, but I was really, really tired, especially in the afternoon. I tried hard to get enough sleep at night, but my body also seemed to want a 2-hour nap after lunch, when I just couldn’t stay awake, much less think and write. Pre-pregnancy, I responded to a post-lunch slump by pouring myself a cup of coffee or, even better, spending the afternoon at my favorite coffee shop, where a latte and the people around me helped keep me focused for a productive afternoon. A cup of herbal tea in the same atmosphere just made me want to curl up in one of the comfy chairs and take a nap, even as my caffeine-fueled coffee shop friends typed energetically around me.

But now I was pregnant, after 18 month of trying and several miscarriages, and I wanted to do all I could to minimize the risks of losing this pregnancy. In previous pregnancies I’d just given up most caffeine, and that wasn’t that hard to do. In this one, I was more afraid than ever of a miscarriage, but I also needed the caffeine boost more than ever to finish my book. I wanted to know what the research says about the safety of caffeine in pregnancy so that I could make an informed decision about whether to consume caffeine, and if so, how much.

Photo by Kevin Tuck

In her book, Expecting Better, Emily Oster includes an excellent discussion of caffeine in pregnancy. I consulted this for a quick answer to my question, and her analysis of the research on this topic helped me feel comfortable strategically drinking a little coffee in the afternoon. However, as much as I like and respect Oster’s book, I’ve also found that my approach to risk in pregnancy is a bit more conservative, and as soon as I had the chance, I wanted to look at the studies myself. Continue reading

Emerging: A Book, a Pregnancy, and Summertime

I’m back. In so many ways, I feel like I’m coming up for air after a long, long time.

I finished my book, or at least the first draft. I submitted it to the publisher a few weeks ago, and it’s now at the mercy of peer-reviewers. Like any big project, this is a huge weight off of my shoulders. It has commanded so much of my attention and energy over the last 18 months that I feel an almost unsettling freedom in each block of free time that comes my way. Where do I put my energy next? Between traveling, a much-reduced childcare schedule, and a sick Cee, I haven’t had much free time. However, since finishing my book, I’ve suddenly noticed cobwebs in the corners of our house, that our living room was still full of toddler toys that Cee never plays with, and that she had commandeered the lower shelf of the pantry for now-forgotten objects like band-aids, old catalogs, puzzle pieces, bottle caps, and pieces of gravel from the driveway. For a couple of days, all I wanted to do was clean and organize.

Another weight has lifted, too. I’m pregnant! Finally. It turned out that it took me longer to make a baby than to make a book. I’m now 15 weeks pregnant, and everything looks healthy so far. This experience – of trying to conceive, infertility, and pregnancy loss – has been more difficult than I imagined. When I tackled writing the book, I knew that the final product would be a result of how much time, effort, thought, and desire I put into it. Not so with getting and staying pregnant. This has been a lesson in relinquishing control and in patience. Having made it through the anxious first trimester, I’m now trying to adjust my attitude from one of bracing myself for something to go wrong to enjoying the pregnancy and letting myself think ahead to a new baby in December.

And now, it really feels like summer. I’m not teaching at all this summer, the first term I’ve had off in nearly two years. We’ve cut Cee’s childcare schedule way back to just a few mornings per week – just enough to give me a little time to write and edit the book as needed. We’re taking a few trips, catching up on appointments for our whole family, and sharing good meals made from our CSA produce. Best of all, we’re spending time together.

Cee and I especially need this. Over the last few months, my husband and I were doing a lot of baton parenting – both of us working long hours and then taking turns with Cee so that the three of us were rarely all together. I was starting to feel like my limited time with Cee was spent in too many battles and limit-setting and not enough connection and cooperation. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve been thinking about and putting into action a sort of parenting reset – trying to think clearly for the first time in a while at what is working and what isn’t and being intentional about how to change it. Happily, I already feel like we’re back in a better place, and I’m looking forward to lots of time with her this summer.

I’m also setting my intention to getting back to regular blogging this summer. I plan to post at least once per week, maybe a bit more. I’ll be blogging about pregnancy, miscarriage, infertility, babies (of course!), and some of my current parenting journey. I have a long list of topics accumulated over the last year or so, but I’m always open to new questions; if you have topic ideas, send them my way!

I’m really looking forward to blogging and engaging with you all again. Thanks for all of your kind notes over the last few months and for bearing with me. It’s good to be back!

Hopeful for the New Year

I, for one, am not sad to see 2013 go. It’s been a rough year for me. I haven’t been blogging about it – haven’t been blogging about much of anything, actually – and I think it is time for an update.IMG_5374 2013 started with a miscarriage in progress, finally ending with a D&C on January 4. I grieved that lost pregnancy openly on this blog. It was therapeutic for me to blog about it and to feel support from women who had had similar experiences, or at least had empathy for the magnitude of love and hope that comes with a pregnancy. I started to feel better. I was confident that I would be pregnant again soon, and that was the obvious way to fill the gaping hole in my heart.

In the spring, I watched seedlings poke through wet dirt. Our neighborhood burst with color and new life, and I felt hopeful. But as the days grew longer and hotter, I felt sadder and sadder.  I still wasn’t pregnant. My previous due date came and went, now just another day, but such a heavy one for me. Cee and I sorted through newborn clothes in our hot attic, not for a new baby for our family, but to lend to a friend. Cee asked to keep a few onesies for her baby doll. I showed her how to fasten the snaps and then sent her downstairs so I could cry.

In August, I had another miscarriage, this time very early. Then, another one in October, early again (and thankfully spontaneous) but far enough out that I let myself think ahead to another summer due date. That one really crushed me. I know miscarriage is common, and it’s easy to chalk the first up to bad luck. But by the third time around, I had really lost faith in my body. It has failed, repeatedly, to do one of the things I feel it was always meant to do. I’ve always wanted children, and the family that I have, for which I am exceedingly grateful every day, doesn’t feel complete. There’s still a gaping hole here, and it’s only gotten bigger.

Meanwhile, Cee turned three in November. I know my sadness has affected her, and it’s affected my parenting, because my emotional reserve is just plain depleted. I am working hard at being enough for her and at assuring her that she is enough for me. (And she is. She really is. I’ve come to terms with that, most days anyway.) Continue reading

Amylase in Infancy: Can Babies Digest Starch?

Several readers have emailed me to ask about babies’ ability to digest starch. Here’s one:

“I have noticed you recommending cereals for babies several times.  I am sure that you are aware that many people look at feeding a baby grains before the age of one or even two as if you have offered your child strychnine. One of the reasons cited is that they supposedly do not have amylase to digest grains before that time. I have often wondered what exactly is happening to the cereal if it is not being digested, but the only statement I could find is something about it “rotting” in the gut.

I would love to get information from a scientific point of view on this topic.  Everything I have been able to find thus far has been very biased towards one point of view or another. Either “cereal is the perfect first food. Easy to digest and enriched with iron” from the infant cereal companies or “Cereal is junk.  No infant should ever eat grains. It is not natural or traditional and they can’t digest it” from online parenting sites.

I need a little clarity and common sense.”

~Hope

I love the skepticism in Hope’s email, and I can also empathize with her frustration about how difficult it is to find good information about a seemingly simple question: Can babies digest starch? If you search for the answer to this question online, you will run into dire warnings of the dangers of giving starch to babies. But these sites might set off your woo detector – as they should. So, after receiving multiple emails about this question as well as seeing it mentioned in discussions on the Science of Mom Facebook page, I figured it was time to put some evidence-based information about babies and starch digestion on the Internet.

Researching this question has given me an excuse to read some classic nutrition physiology papers harkening back to the 1960’s and 1970’s, and it’s brought back memories of years in the lab, exploring nutrient digestion and metabolism. And starch digestion in infancy, it turns out, is a really neat story.

Let’s start with some basics about carbohydrate digestion.

What is starch? How is it digested?

Starch is a type of complex carbohydrate. Made from lots of glucose molecules bonded together in long, branching chains, it is a plant’s way of storing glucose – product of photosynthesis and source of energy – in a stable form. We find starch in grains, root vegetables, winter squashes, beans, and some fruits, like bananas. Starch is an important storage depot for the plant, and it also makes for tasty staple foods for cultures around the world.

One little section of starch, containing 3 glucose molecules. Wikimedia Commons, public domain.

A chain of 3 glucose molecules, like a tiny section of starch.

Glucose is the major fuel for the cells of the body. When we eat starch, we have to break the bonds in those chains of glucose molecules, liberating them to be absorbed from the small intestine into our blood. Starch digestion begins in the mouth, where salivary amylase starts chopping up those large glucose chains. When this partially digested starch gets to the small intestine, amylase made and secreted by the pancreas jumps in to do more bond-breaking and is responsible for most of starch digestion in adults. A suite of enzymes produced by the cells lining the small intestine, including sucrase, isomaltase, maltase, and glucoamylase, work on the remaining short chains, finishing up the job and making glucose available for absorption.

Starch Digestion in Infants

Infants go through some incredible nutritional transitions in the first months of life. Prior to birth, their growth and development is fueled almost entirely by glucose from mom, absorbed across the placenta. After birth, they have to abruptly transition to an exclusive milk diet, which is high in fat and lactose, still a relatively simple sugar. As they start solid foods, babies have to adapt to a much more complex and varied diet. Around the world, starch is a major source of energy in the diets of children and adults alike. But when infants are first introduced to starchy foods – often in the form of cereals and porridges – starch is a novel nutrient to their digestive tract. They need to turn it into glucose, but are they equipped to do this? Continue reading