A blog post by Adriana Bachmann
Let me be clear about something before we go any further: I have nothing against pediatricians.
Most of them went into medicine because they genuinely care about children. They've spent years training, studying, and working to support the families they serve. I respect that. I mean it.
But here's the thing — a ten-minute well-visit appointment, a one-size-fits-all handout, and a quick "any questions?" at the end does not give your pediatrician enough time to really know your baby. It doesn't give them enough time to understand your feeding challenges, your sleep struggles, or the specific patterns that make your baby different from every other baby they saw that day.
That gap between what medicine can offer and what your baby actually needs? That's where Chapter Four of Bitches, I've Arrived lives.
Standardized Advice Is Not the Same as Good Advice
There's a reason so many parents follow their pediatrician's guidance to the letter and still find themselves exhausted, confused, and dealing with a baby who isn't sleeping, isn't gaining weight the way they should, or is constantly uncomfortable.
Standardized advice is built for the average. Your baby is not average. Your baby is specific — a particular weight, a particular temperament, a particular set of needs. When generic guidance gets applied to a specific baby, the results are often generic at best and actively harmful at worst.
In Chapter Four, I go through the most common pieces of advice parents receive from well-meaning medical professionals — advice that gets repeated constantly, treated as fact, and rarely questioned. And I explain, clearly and directly, where it falls short and what to do instead.
Some of it will surprise you. Some of it will make you angry. All of it is worth knowing.
The Feeding Advice That's Quietly Causing Problems
There's a specific recommendation around how long a baby should feed that gets passed down in virtually every pediatrician's office in this country. It sounds reasonable. It comes from authority figures. And in my experience, it is one of the most consistent sources of feeding problems I see in babies.
I'm not going to spell it out here, because the explanation matters just as much as the fact. Understanding why this advice is wrong — what it does to a baby's digestion, their developing relationship with food, and their eating habits years down the road — is what actually changes behavior.
That explanation is in the book. And once you read it, you won't be able to unsee it.
Crying Is Not the Enemy
If there's one area where modern parenting advice has gone completely off the rails, it's this: the idea that a crying baby is a crisis, and a mother who doesn't immediately respond is failing her child.
I understand where this instinct comes from. Of course you want to comfort your baby. Of course you don't want them to suffer. That's not the question. The question is whether rushing in at the first sound of a whimper is actually helping — or whether it's quietly teaching your baby that they cannot handle a single moment of discomfort on their own.
There is real science behind what crying does for a baby. There are chemical processes happening in that little body when tears fall — processes that serve a genuine developmental purpose. And there's a meaningful difference between a baby who needs you and a baby who is simply working something out.
Chapter Four breaks down the difference, what the research actually shows, and how to respond in a way that builds resilience instead of dependency. It also addresses the guilt — because the pressure new mothers face around this topic is relentless, and most of it is based on feeling rather than fact.
Spending Time Away from Your Baby Is Not Abandonment
Here's something nobody says out loud nearly enough: it is healthy for you to not be with your baby every single moment.
Not just okay. Healthy. For you and for them.
Babies who never experience any separation from their primary caregiver don't learn how to self-regulate. They don't build the emotional toolkit they need to function independently, and they can develop anxiety patterns that show up throughout childhood and beyond. A mother who never takes a breath, never steps away, never tends to her own needs is not just burning herself out — she's also modeling a kind of anxious, all-consuming attachment that her baby will absorb.
In Chapter Four, I get into this honestly — including the part that tends to make people uncomfortable. Some of what looks like extraordinary devotion to a baby is actually something else entirely. And the babies in those situations often pay the price.
This isn't judgment. It's observation from two decades of being in these homes, seeing these dynamics, and watching what happens over time. You deserve to hear it.
The Trends That Are Wasting Your Time and Money
Chapter Four also takes on some of the most popular parenting trends circulating right now — the ones you see all over social media, the ones pediatricians sometimes echo, the ones that have entire product lines built around them.
Black-and-white sensory cards. Mandatory skin-to-skin protocols. The rules around music and television. Constant apologies to your infant. I have thoughts on all of it — specific, experience-backed thoughts — and I don't hold back.
Some of these trends are harmless. Some are a waste of money. And some are quietly building patterns in your baby that you'll spend months trying to undo.
Knowing the difference matters. That's what this chapter is for.
The Real Question You Should Be Asking
At the end of the day, Chapter Four comes down to one question worth sitting with: Who are you listening to, and what is their motive?
Everyone who gives you parenting advice has a reason for giving it. Pediatricians work within systems that have their own constraints and incentives. Influencers get paid to promote products. Well-meaning family members are passing down what worked for them in a different era. And the baby industry, broadly speaking, profits from your uncertainty.
I've been asked to write this book for over twenty years. I didn't do it for a paycheck. I did it because I know what works — I've seen it work, thousands of times, with thousands of babies — and because parents deserve that information delivered straight, without the marketing and without the guilt.
You're not a bad mother for having questions. You're not a bad mother for pushing back on advice that doesn't feel right. You're not a bad mother for wanting something better than "get through it."
You're exactly the kind of mother this book was written for.
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