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Rochester Moms: Why Your Baby Cries for You (& why it matters)

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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