Rochester Moms: Why Your Baby Cries for You (& why it matters)
- Dr. Hanna Cespedes Ph.D., M.S, LPC, ACS, NCC
- 2 days ago
- 7 min read
Updated: 18 hours ago
A reflection for Rochester mothers on secure attachment, mentalizing, and the sacred
role of being the one our children reach for in distress
If someone had told me that my 10-month-old would say abuela with clarity, call her
grandpa by his Spanish name with joy, and experiment with new sounds daily—yet
reserve mama for moments of pure meltdown—I would’ve laughed. And as this is my
third daughter, you would think I would have learned! Tsk tsk, silly Hanna.
But here we are.
And mama is strictly a distress word.
And I mean distressed! We are talking like 10 minutes into a screaming car ride when
“mama” forgot to pack extra baby snacks kind of distress.
For a while, it hit me harder than I expected. My oldest kiddos started laughing and
pointing out how their little sister only says mommies name when she is mad. Was I the
source of frustration? The symbol of limits and finality? The one associated with
boundaries of bedtime and brushing out the curls she refuses to let me touch? As a
working momma with three kids, 1 business with three locations, and a full-time
assistant professor position, one of my great pains is not seeing my babies much during
the week. Maybe my 10-month-old was already picking up on this and pushing back...
But then something shifted—a moment of clarity that only comes when you blend
motherhood with years of studying attachment, teaching graduate students, supervising
clinicians, and holding space for families through Pacifica Counseling & Psychiatry LLC.
I remembered what I teach my clients, my students, my supervisees, and, honestly,
myself:
She calls “mama!” in distress, not because I cause the pain, but because I soothe it.
She calls for me because I am her safest place to fall apart.
Motherhood With Many Hats: What This Means for
Working Moms
I am a working mother of three.
I run a multi-state counseling and psychiatry practice.
I teach.
I supervise.
I write.
I lead a team.
I prepare meals, pack school bags, answer emails at soccer practice, and whisper
gentle mental health reminders to myself between therapy sessions and bedtime
routines. I literally give myself a game time prep level talk as I leave my 8-6 pm life to
enter into my 6-10 pm life. I got some long days filled with lots of love, sass, and joy.
Yet- they are long.
Like so many working mothers in Rochester, Minnesota—and truly, I can’t say enough
how much I love this city and the incredible people I’ve met here, especially the moms
juggling medical, academic, or healthcare-related roles—I’m constantly balancing
tenderness with leadership, caregiving with deadlines, and attachment with ambition.
And in the middle of all that, here is what matters most:
My daughter doesn’t need me to be constantly present.
She needs me to be reliably present.
This is the core of secure attachment.
As Wallin explains, secure attachment develops not from perfection, but from the
internalized sense that the caregiver is emotionally available, attuned, and
reflective—even when physically apart (Wallen, 2007). This is the essence of the “good
enough” mother Winnicott wrote about: a caregiver who shows up consistently, not
flawlessly.
The good enough mother isn’t the parent who never raises her voice or always keeps her cool—it’s the parent who repairs after rupture, says sorry, and goes in for the
cuddle. It’s the mother who misreads a cue, then tries again and narrates it to her child
every step of the way for their learning. It’s the parent who offers comfort more often
than not, who is predictable in the ways that matter and flexible in the places that allow
a child to grow. A good enough mother creates an environment where her child
experiences moments of attunement, moments of mis-attunement, and the all-important
moments of reconnection that teach the child, “Even when things go wrong, we find our
way back to each other.”
This concept aligns beautifully with research from Mary Main, whose work demonstrates that what shapes a child’s attachment style is not the parent’s perfect behavior, but the parent’s attachment state of mind—the way the caregiver understands relationships, emotions, and their own internal world. In fact, Main found that a parent’s reflective capacity and emotional coherence predict a child’s attachment with astonishing accuracy.
In other words: secure attachment comes from being a present, human parent—not an
idealized one. It’s built in the everyday moments where we show up, even imperfectly,
and communicate to our children, “You matter. Your feelings matter. And I am here,
again and again.” And as a therapist that has had the joy to serve and work with those
experiencing severe mental illness, my anecdotal experience has taught me that the
more “perfect” a parent presents to a child, the more harmful mental health outcomes
can result for that same child- especially for girls towards their mothers.
Working moms are not at a disadvantage.
If anything, our ability to be consistent, mindful, and attuned—even while balancing
many roles—models resilience, flexibility, and emotional confidence. It models what I
was telling my oldest during our 5k turkey trot yesterday for Thanksgiving. That even
though her legs hurt, it was cold, and it was eary- that she is capable of much more than
she thinks she is and she should be proud of herself for choosing to move her body. I
am happy to say she walked about the rest of the day with a celebratory in one hand
and the other hand raised in excitement as she proclaimed how proud she was of
herself.
Why “Mama!” in Distress Is a Sign of Secure
Attachment
Back to my baby girl, when my daughter is playful or content, she explores. She
practices words that feel fun in her mouth. She delights in the world with curiosity and
confidence. She babbles and tried to mimic.
But when the moment her inner world becomes too big...
She calls for me.
“Mama!” is her nervous system’s flare gun.
“Mama!” is her attachment circuitry firing.
“Mama!” is her trust made audible.
As Wallin writes:
“The quality of the nonverbal relationship between caregiver and infant is the greatest
predictor of attachment later in life.” (Wallen, 2007).
It is not the immaculate sensory bins that I cannot afford.
Not the themed playdates- who am I kidding. If we get to a playdate with socks on and
on time that is enough of a success.
The greatest predictor of healthy relationships and attachment is not the endless
pressure to be everything to everyone, even your kids. We are surrounded by a culture
that says so clearly otherwise. But for decades, attachment science has indicated
otherwise. And more than that, centuries of good enough mothers have shown up and
been present for their kids. Their stories are the most meaningful.
The best support we can give to our babies is the quiet emotional synchrony and
reciprocity, picking them up as they reach out for us. Attuning to their calls.
Maintaining eye contact and a gentle voice, the regulated presence.
The return after the rupture and apologies when we do not get it right.
Its holding her and soothing her when the “mama” hits.
Mentalizing: The Superpower All Mothers Can Learn
One idea from Wallin’s work that has reshaped my motherhood is mentalizing—the
ability to understand the mind behind the behavior.
When I shift from:
“She’s screaming because she’s pissed”
to
“She’s screaming because she trusts me to help her regulate,”
everything softens. Which, for me, is important. When you run a lot (literally and
figurately), it is easy to forget the importance of ease and gentleness. This is so very
important for our kids, especially during heightened states.
Mentalizing gives working mothers—who often juggle competing demands—a moment
of breath. It allows us to respond rather than react, to understand rather than internalize,
and to stay grounded when the baby, the inbox, and the sink all demand attention at
once.
As Wallin describes:
“Stepping back from immediate experience and considering the mental processes
behind it supports emotional balance and secure attachment.” (Wallen, 2007)
This practice is not only good for our babies.
It is also profoundly good for us.
A Word to Rochester Moms: You’re Doing Better Than
You Think
Rochester is filled with hardworking mothers—nurses, medical assistants, physicians,
professors, therapists, students, administrators, entrepreneurs, stay-at-home moms,
hybrid moms, and moms who don’t fit into a box at all. Many carry the weight of raising children far from extended family. My heart goes out especially to you. Many balance their own stress while supporting partners in demanding fields. Many feel guilty about time, energy, and emotional bandwidth.
A Small Call to Action (From One Working Mother to
Another)
Wallen gently invites caregivers to nurture their own reflective capacity as the pathway
to nurturing secure attachment in their children. That means self-care is not
indulgent—it is neurological nourishment for your family.
So here is what I invite you to consider this week:
✔️ Take a five-minute pause to breathe before responding to a meltdown.
✔️ Let yourself be the “good enough” mother, not the perfect one.
✔️ Notice your internal world with the same compassion you offer your child.
✔️ Reach out for support if your emotional load feels heavy.
✔️ Remember that working, thriving, and attaching are not mutually exclusive.
And if you need a place to start, Pacifica Counseling & Psychiatry offers therapy
and support for Rochester mothers seeking balance, emotional health, and
deeper connection.
Because sometimes the most powerful parenting work we do…
is the work we do within ourselves.
**So yes—she only says “mama” when she’s angry.
And thank goodness for that.**
Because it means I am her safe place in the storm.
Because it means I am the one she trusts to help her regulate.
Because it means her attachment system is working exactly as it should.
And honestly?
What a profound gift.
References
Wallen, D. J. (2007). Attachment in psychotherapy. Guilford Press.
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