Listening First: What It Really Takes to Shift Child-Feeding Practices
- Purnima Jha
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read

Ishika, 23, is already a mother of three. She was married at 16 and lives in a joint family of six members. When I first met her outside her home during winter, she was feeding her older child from a plate while holding the newborn in her lap. Ishika always seemed warm, welcoming, and curious. In those early interactions, I figured out that her newborn was not exclusively breastfed. Her mother-in-law often gave the baby sips of tea or water, believing this soothed the child. For Ishika, this was something she had seen and accepted. The baby was often uncomfortable and weak, but she did not connect it with these practices.
I did not immediately try to change her practices. Instead, I listened patiently, trying to understand her reasoning and respecting the traditions she followed. Only after building comfort did she begin discussing feeding. I explained calmly that feeding lacteal beverages to the baby could cause gas, make the child lose appetite, and lead to weakness. I did not dismiss the elder’s role but placed the advice in simple terms that Ishika could use at home.
I returned a few weeks later and noticed that Ishika had already stopped giving tea to the baby. As a result, the baby’s stomach troubles became less frequent, and Ishika noted the difference. This first success built her trust, but it had taken repeated conversations and reassurance.
From that point onwards, Ishika’s engagement with me deepened. By the fifth or sixth visit, she was no longer talking only about the newborn. She began asking questions about her other two children and about her own health as well. She wanted to know why her elder child’s urine was always yellow, why one child often refused to eat, and what she herself should eat to stay healthy. These were not small questions; they showed that her thinking was expanding beyond one practice to the overall well-being of the family.
My role was to nurture this curiosity by answering Ishika’s questions patiently and practically. For the child with diarrhoea, I explained how to make a sugar–salt solution at home and showed how it is done. For her other children, I answered her questions on their diet and complementary feeding, the importance of hydration and focusing on home-cooked foods instead of packaged meals. With every conversation, Ishika tested the advice, saw the results, and came back with more confidence.

I also shared a 1000-day calendar with her. Developed by ZealGrit, the calendar illustrates practical tips on feeding, hygiene, and childcare. Ishika kept the calendar safely and referred to it whenever she was unsure. The calendar worked as a behaviour change tool inside her household: even when I was not there, the advice was present in her daily space.
Over the course of the next 7 months, changes were visible. The youngest child was exclusively breastfed. The older children’s eating habits improved. She even shared what she learned with her sister-in-law with great enthusiasm.
For me, the journey with Ishika showed how respectful dialogue and reinforcement tools like the calendar can make new information stick. Listening first, balancing tradition with fact, and following up repeatedly created the space for Ishika to shift to an informed caregiver who not just seeks information but also acts on it and shares it further.
It started with a conversation on a single child-feeding practice. Over time, that one change led to many more, each connected to the other. Sustained engagement, repeated visits, and the constant reminder of the calendar helped reinforce them, showing how trust and patient dialogue can bring real shifts in childcare practices.
Ishika’s journey reminds me that behaviour change is never instant. It is built step by step, visit by visit, until it becomes part of everyday life.