Sleep. We all need it. We all want it. Spinoff Parents scientist Dr Jess Berentson-Shaw explains the science behind infant sleep, and what works and what doesn’t.

Content warning: This post talks about Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, also known as Sudden Unexpected Death in Infancy.

When our first baby was about eight weeks old I awoke totally befuddled at around 3am, aware my partner and baby were not back from a much earlier removal from our room due to persistent screaming. I stumbled into the lounge to find that the gentle swinging of the Moses basket had turned into a near 360 degree rotation as the baby screamed and partner looked grim. Lets just say it was pretty painful for us all.

Later, when visiting friends with a newborn, I stepped into their bedroom to peek at the baby. I came out, looked at their ashen faces, and gently suggested ‘perhaps the white noise was a tad loud?’ as the giant speakers next to his basket blasted out static at a level likely to disrupt birds in flight.

Sleep deprivation partnered with a persistently crying baby can do terrible things to a person.

I spent a lot of time thinking if I could just ‘fix’ the baby she would sleep through the night. It took me about three years and another child to figure out I might have been thinking about it all wrong, probably because I did not understand the science of baby sleep. Even scientists can miss the point, when they’re sleep deprived. In fact most of our society thinks about it all wrong. They look at infant sleep as the problem, rather than considering how to better support parents.

Getting our expectations right for the first six months: what is normal?

I am going to discuss baby sleep from 0-six months old, as the first six months is a developmentally distinct time (another post will deal with sleep over six months). Sleep is different in babies over six months.

So here is the honest truth: in the first six months sleep is, for most babies, just not a thing their brains ‘get’. We can’t ‘fix’ that, but we can manage our lives to cope with the reality.

For most young babies their teeny weeny little collection of neurons do not understand sleep. They learn it, but only when they are developmentally ready, and most babies’ brains and bodies are not ready to sleep through in the first six months. Their circadian rhythm (telling night from day) is only built when that part of the brain has the neural connections to do so. They do more Rapid Eye Movement sleep (which plays a role in their brain development), and have shorter cycles, as they need to eat quite frequently. Their brains are also not developed to the point of being able fall back to sleep on their own when they wake.

The lived reality of this can be hell, but it is normal hell.

Like many behaviours, there is variation between babies, which comes down to a complex interplay of biology and environment. So getting a non sleeper and trying to make them a sleeper is going to be almost impossible.

In normal infants the average total sleeping time per 24 hours varied from nine to 19 hours at birth, and from 12 to 21 hours at two months, with wide daily variations in each baby’s total sleeping times.

Only 37% of healthy three-month-old infants regularly sleep eight hours at night without disturbing their parents.

So how many times a night do babies wake? As you can see from the table below, the average wakes in the first couple of months is 1.7 times and about one in the three to six-months period. But there is a wide range within that too, with some waking up to four times (does 5am count as night or day? This was an endless discussion in our house).

Sometimes you are that person to hit the jackpot with a baby who sleeps through, but most parents are not so lucky. My limited experience in the job of parenting tells me it is best to try and manage my children the way they are, not the way I wish they were.

Before anyone jumps in and says “oh but the babies that sleep through must be sleep trained” the science tells us otherwise.

‘Sleep training’ for babies zero to six months is best avoided

If we look at the best science (not all published studies or reports from happy parents can be relied upon, you can read why here), it is clear that sleep training does not work, and can in fact make life for parents, specifically mothers, worse. Sleep training refers here specifically to direct interventions with the baby that attempt to change its behaviour.

Sleep training includes strategies such as: don’t breastfeed your baby to sleep; don’t let the baby get overtired or overstimulated; put the baby down in the cot at the first tired sign; teach the baby to self-settle in the cot; make sure the baby is getting big blocks of sleep instead of catnapping during the day; and use feed-play-sleep cycles. These are also called ‘behavioural interventions’.

What the best research tells us is that behavioural interventions for sleep in the first six months have not been shown to:

• decrease infant crying,
• prevent sleep and behavioural problems in later childhood,or
• or protect against postnatal depression.

Another high quality review of studies says it is possible that in the short term a few minutes extra sleep might be gained (29 minutes), but crying will not be reduced. That needs to be balanced against the potential risks and unintended outcomes. An unintended outcome is when we think an intervention should work, but not only does it not work, but also it makes things worse. Risks may include: ceasing breastfeeding early, worsened maternal anxiety, increased problem crying and potentially even increased risk of Sudden Infant Death if the intervention requires the baby sleeps in a different room.

The big problem for me as a scientist is how parents have been let down with so much bad science. I will be honest here; the plethora of contradictory and often bad sleep advice, sometimes pushed by those with a financial interest, is a shit show for new parents.

The authors of both the systematic reviews I mention above highlighted just how much bias there is the published research on the issue of sleep training. There is too much reliance on historical notions of baby sleep.

But all is not lost. If we accept that babies don’t sleep all that much in the first six months, there are evidence-based actions we can do to make life easier.

Dealing with excessive crying

I have had a few conversations lately with new parents who say their babies wake a few times, but because they don’t cry a lot it is manageable. For me, it was often the excessive crying that really sent me over the edge. The research shows that sleep interventions often fail to consider why babies are crying excessively.

One of the causes of excessive crying in young babies, is feeding problems. Feeding problems in this context does not mean reflux problems like GORD (which is probably over diagnosed and over prescribed for), but rather things like “attachment and positioning, functional lactose overload, oral motor dysfunction, types of tongue tie (you can read more about the research and over diagnosis of tongue tie here), and sensory processing problems”.

Unfortunately, research has found that midwives, Plunket nurses, and GPs may be unaware they have knowledge deficits in this area. A good lactation consultant may know this stuff, and a good GP too, but it is hard for individual parents to know whether a clinician is up on the latest research. You can always just ask!

But this gap is a policy one, the suite of policies we have to research infant and new parenting issues, train skilled professionals, and provide the right kind of support to new parents is kind of weak. It is a policy failing that has a lot to do with who counts in policy development and why (hint it is not parents, especially not mothers).

What about maternal (and parental) wellbeing?

The other big issue that needs to be addressed before considering sleep training is parental mental health. It is just so much harder to deal with a waking baby, let alone a waking crying baby, if depression or anxiety is part of your pre- and postnatal experience. The Spinoff Parents has done an excellent job of highlighting the issue. You are not alone and there are very effective treatments out there and support groups.

Baby blues are normal in the short term. But a loss of enjoyment of life and of the things that used to make you happy is not OK. Thoughts about ending your life need to be talked about with a professional: your midwife, if you still have one, or your GP. If anyone dismisses these feelings and thoughts, you are talking to someone who is not good at their job, and you need to talk to someone else.

The painstaking art and science of supporting a woman and her baby

Interestingly, a new multidisciplinary approach has been developed in Australia by researchers frustrated with the poor science. Oddly for us in New Zealand, they call it the Possums Sleep Intervention.

The approach draws on the evidence of what works from adult sleep interventions: things like mindfulness and relaxation, healthy social activities for parents with baby in tow (i.e. going out and have that coffee, because it’s good for your mental wellbeing to socialise), the right exposure to light and daytime noises, addressing feeding or other problems (which have a massive impact on crying and sleep), cue-based care, ten hours of physical contact a day (does not need to be with the mother), babies sleeping in the same place night and day, and sleeping in the same room as a baby for the first six months. There is as yet no randomised controlled trial in this approach. A basic evaluation has been done, which looked positive, but this is not sufficient to say categorically it works.

However, as an alternative to the models that show no evidence of working and potential harm (for example, sleep training) it has promise.

Based on this, I would say that if you were struggling with a crying baby, and considering spending money on a ‘fix’ (and given we don’t have a programme in New Zealand based on the multidisciplinary research), then the following may help:

• Try not to worry if you baby does not sleep much in the day.
• Dedicate time to doing some things you enjoy (and bring the baby along if they are a cat napper).
• Ask someone to hold the baby for hours at a time when you are over it.
• See a lactation consultant (if you are breastfeeding & struggling).
• Breastfeed your baby to sleep if that is what works for your family.
• Sleep in the same room as the baby, or put the baby in a pepipod or wahakura in your bed if you want to bed share (I will talk about bedsharing soon).
• Help the baby develop their circadian rhythms (i.e. tell the difference between night and day) using light and noise cues.
• Spend a lovely hour or two crying in the office of a clinical psychologist who will affirm how hard it is, tell you that you are doing great, and check in to see whether you need some more mental health support.

It is about your well being as much as your baby’s in the early days and months.

Good grief it is hard. So very hard, when you are knee deep in a screaming baby and sleep deprivation and life has to go on and everyone else knows best. A lot of people believe they can sell you a miracle cure and that is not OK. There is no miracle fix – young babies learn to sleep in their own time: The science is clear on that. What there is, is realistic support, good research based advice for underlying issues,  and love and support for you and your mental well being.

Kia kaha to those who are struggling in this space. It will pass – it just does not feel like it right now. In the meantime know there are people out there who care and there are safe non-judgemental informative spaces for you to be supported in your parenting. The Spinoff Parents is one of them.

This post has been edited to include a definition of sleep behaviours and links from a later draft.

Dr Jess Berentson-Shaw  is a researcher and public communicator. She consults on effective evidence-based policy, and helps people and organisations engage the power of good storytelling to change minds. Follow Dr Jess on Facebook.

Follow the Spinoff Parents on Facebook and Twitter.

This content is entirely funded by Flick, New Zealand’s fairest power deal. In the past year, their customers saved $320 on average, which pays for a cheeky bottle of wine in the trolley almost every shop. Please support us by switching to them right now!

These days an increasing number of families are blended families, which means more step-parents and step-children. Julia Kerr reflects on the challenges of welcoming a new parent into your family, and talks to her husband about becoming a step-father to her son.

I didn’t know anyone with step parents when I was a kid.

My parents were married. My friends all had parents who were either married or single, and all I knew of step-parents was what Disney taught me. And Disney step parents did not love other people’s children like their own.

Disney step-parents wanted to ship “the little brats” off to boarding school and were constantly at war with the children for the attention, affection, or money of their new spouses. Disney gave me the impression that having a step-parent was a rather unfortunate situation to find yourself in.

But as I grew up I realised that in more ways than one, real life is not like a Disney movie. There are no mice helping me with my housework and realistically, glass slippers sound like a terrible idea. And as I grew up, I was introduced to blended families and people whose stories were different to mine.

Stories of men who had raised sons even though they hadn’t fathered them. Stories of women who were bringing up daughters as their own even though they hadn’t carried them in their bellies.

I began to learn that family was more than just your blood and that family love could extend beyond your DNA.

While I know not all step-parents are kind, and not all situations are good, in my personal experience it has been common for the relationship between step-parent and child to be positive. Far more common than Disney would have ever led me to believe.

Now at age 30, with two kids of my own, the dynamics of my own family are vastly different to what I grew up in. I’m now someone’s step-daughter. My sister has raised a son she didn’t give birth to and my oldest son has two dads – the one who made him and the one who chose him.

My son was nine months old when I met my now-husband, Logan. It took four years for him to make that transition from “Mum’s boyfriend” to “my step-dad”.

And it has taken nine years so far (and another baby) for me to learn to relinquish some control. Sometimes I still see him as just mine, even though I share him.

Sometimes when my husband suggests something I don’t agree with, or clashes with my son, my default is to take it personally rather than to just think that sometimes ten-year-olds clash with their dads. While I appreciate there would have been a lot for him to learn and get comfortable with in becoming a step-dad, there was also a lot I had to get my head around too.

Allowing someone else to step into a parenting role alongside me was a delicate balance of encouragement and restriction. I didn’t want to parent alone, and after a certain period of time, I did expect that this man who was now sharing life with me would step up as a parent – but only as I said so. I would still maintain full control of discipline, future education prospects, and birthday presents. Sometimes Logan would try to claim dad rights on things and I would shut him down because it didn’t fit with what I wanted. After that I’d go and mollycoddle their relationship because it didn’t look like what I thought it should.

I often got frustrated and upset when things didn’t go the way I’d pictured it between Logan and my son. Their relationship had to work and I think subconsciously I was always scared it might not. I was terrified I’d end up heartbroken, so sometimes I really forced it, which in hindsight probably just caused me a lot of unnecessary anxiety and didn’t really help anyone.

I spoke to a counsellor once about my concerns about their relationship and she told me to let it go and develop naturally.

Sure there were positive things I could do to help encourage the relationship but regardless, they would butt heads sometimes because that’s natural. My partner would get frustrated at my son sometimes because that’s natural. They will love hard sometimes. My son would choose me sometimes and sometimes he would choose his step-dad and I had to be OK with both of those things. I had to let him be involved and figure out how to be comfortable with relinquishing a bit of that control.

I learned I had to treat my partner the way I wanted my son to treat him because he could only see him the way that I did.

I have spoken to a lot of people on the step-parent spectrum. People with positive experiences and others with very sad stories. I’ve spoken to people raising someone else’s children and people like me who are sharing the responsibility with another person who wasn’t there at the beginning. I spoke to people who are having to co-parent with ex-spouses who don’t want them involved and the challenges that they face. I spoke to someone who is raising children with a widower and the constant questions that raises: forever wondering “What would their mum do?”

So many I spoke to spent a lot of time worrying they’re not getting it right. Many struggle not to overthink the relationship between their partner and their child. Many worry they can’t meet the needs of their new family. Many are concerned that they subconsciously favour their biological children in blended families.

They all sounded like normal parents worrying about normal things.

When talking about the challenges involved in step parenting, we all agreed on one thing – Other people’s kids are almost always more annoying than your own.  Because we are naturally predisposed to the genetic quirks of our own children, it takes time and often a lot of patience to learn to love someone else’s as you would your own.

Finally, I decided to speak to my own husband about his experience in becoming a step-dad. Here’s what he had to say.

So, what’s it like to be a step-dad?

It feels much the same as being just dad for me. Now that we have our own son too, I know that there are differences in the kind of love but it’s still love. The step-dad love is just a less inherent kind, that love took time and I had to learn to love him where as it’s obviously different with a biological child. It’s just there, it’s not a choice, if that makes any sense? Not that love is [a choice], but there is a difference.

Was there was any specific point you realised you’d made a transition from ‘Mum’s boyfriend’ to ‘step dad’?

I don’t recall any specific points really but I do recall feeling good when he decided he wanted to call me Dad. I feel like that cemented my role in his life a lot more. It’s always been a little odd because he has always had his biological dad around. I’ve always felt as though there is a part of him that will always get some of the dad stuff from his biological dad and not me. I don’t mind that but I will always think that there is a separate part of him that he has kept just for his biological dad.

How different have your relationships with your step-son and your biological son been?

I have questioned myself at times as to whether I have been harder on him (my step-son), or not bonded as closely with him, as maybe I could or should have, because subconsciously I resented him because we didn’t get a chance to be just you and I. I’ve never consciously had a thought like that but I have wondered if maybe somewhere inside me there was something like that there. And maybe it contributed to me not finding it as easy to build the relationship I have with him. Or maybe that’s just normal and it’s all part of the parenting thing. I’ve never done this before so I don’t know how it’s meant to feel.

Sometimes I wonder if our personalities clash or if it’s just an age thing? It’s impossible to measure because I don’t know what it’s ‘meant’ to be like and it’s hard to compare the relationship between the boys when they are at different ages. That was a really hard to thing to say so I hope you can take that objectively.

I can because I think about that too. What would it have been like in the beginning if it was just me and you? What would it be like now if we didn’t have kids at all? What would it be like going out for dinner tonight instead of reading Hairy Maclary 17 times in a row, or wearing matching underwear instead of finding Lego men in my bra? I’m sure everyone has those thoughts sometimes. And I think it’s normal to clash sometimes too: I quite often think ‘I love you but I don’t like you right now.’

Are we allowed to think like that?

Yes.

OK.

*

Step-parents have a unique influence and a special relationship with their step-children because their love and support is a choice not just a duty.

It does take effort, understanding, and compassion by everyone involved to make the relationship work. My husband provides this for both of my sons. He reads to both of them. Fights for both of them and passes on his love of 70s rock to both of them. While we may see some differences in the relationship, to both of them he is just Dad. While one love came naturally and one took a little time – the love is still there just the same.

Follow the Spinoff Parents on Facebook and Twitter.

This content is entirely funded by Flick, New Zealand’s fairest power deal. In the past year, their customers saved $320 on average, which pays for a cheeky bottle of wine in the trolley almost every shop. Please support us by switching to them right now!