🧠 How Mindfulness Changes the Parenting Brain: A Study on Nonreactivity and Emotional Presence
- Ashley Cruz
- Jun 2
- 6 min read
What one brain study reveals about emotional regulation and the power of staying present
Lately, I’ve been deep in study—training to become a Mindfulness-Based Childbirth and Parenting (MBCP) teacher while continuing to show up as a mother, yoga teacher, doula-in-training, and very real human navigating everyday life. I’ll be honest: it’s been a lot. Beautiful, meaningful, transformative—but also humbling and messy.
There are days I feel grounded and in flow, and others when I’m overwhelmed by the intensity of parenting, the pressure to get everything right, or the emotional weight of what’s happening in the world. And in all of that, I keep coming back to mindfulness—not as something I’ve mastered, but as something I’m learning to return to, breath by breath.
As part of my MBCP training, I recently read a study that really struck me. It was about how mothers’ brains respond when they see their babies in distress—and how mindfulness might shape that response in powerful ways. It made me think about all the times I’ve struggled to stay steady when my daughter is upset, and how much I long to meet those moments with more presence and compassion—not just for her, but for myself too.
The study I’m sharing below doesn’t just live in a lab—it lives in the nursery, the kitchen floor, the car seat tantrum, and the midnight cries. It’s about what happens inside of us when our children need us most—and how mindfulness can help us show up not with perfection, but with steadiness, softness, and care.
🍼 What Was the Study About & What did they find?
The study, led by researcher Heidemarie Laurent and her team, looked at how mothers respond—on a neurological level—when they see their own babies in emotional situations. But this wasn’t abstract or theoretical. These were real moments: videos of each mother’s own baby experiencing distress (like during a brief arm restraint task) and delight (like playing peekaboo).
While the mothers watched these videos, their brain activity was measured using fMRI scans. Researchers were especially interested in how certain mindfulness traits—like nonreactivity (the ability to stay with emotion without being swept away by it)—showed up in the brain.
What they found was striking: mothers who scored higher in nonreactivity had less activation in parts of the brain linked to emotional overwhelm when watching their baby in distress. And interestingly, they showed more activation in response to joyful moments, suggesting a greater ability to be present for both the hard and the beautiful.
This study helped me put words—and science—to something I’ve felt in my own mothering: that mindfulness doesn’t mean feeling less, it means being more able to stay present with what’s real, without drowning in it. And that ability to stay steady—to co-regulate, rather than escalate—is one of the greatest gifts we can offer our children.
What Does “Nonreactivity” Look Like in Real Life?
Let’s be honest—“nonreactivity” isn’t exactly the language we use in the heat of parenting. You don’t find yourself thinking, “Ah yes, I am now practicing nonreactivity!” when your child is refusing to put on their shoes and you’re already late.
But here’s what it can look like:
Taking a deep breath instead of yelling.
Pausing before reacting, even when your nervous system is buzzing.
Catching the thought spiral—“I’m failing. I can’t do this. She always does this.”—and just noticing it, rather than believing it.
Softening your shoulders and remembering: This moment will pass.
What the study showed is that when parents have practiced—or naturally tend toward—this kind of presence, their brains actually reflect that groundedness. They’re less “lit up” in the areas of emotional overload. They aren’t shutting down or disconnecting. They’re just... staying with. Calm enough to offer their baby the regulation they need.
And in the moments of joy? Those same parents lit up more! They were more able to feel, to savour, to take in the good.
This isn't about perfection or performance. It’s not about being a monk in the playroom. It’s about building the inner muscle to stay close to our children when it’s hard—and open wide when it’s beautiful.
🫶 Co-Regulation: What Our Children Really Need in Hard Moments
We often talk about mindfulness as something we practice for ourselves—but in parenting, it’s never just about us.
When we can stay steady during our child’s distress, we become something more than just calm—we become regulating. Our child’s nervous system, still developing and deeply sensitive, learns how to calm down by borrowing our calm. This is co-regulation.
And it’s one of the most powerful tools we have as parents—not because we always do it perfectly, but because we’re willing to try.
That’s why the study’s findings around nonreactivity matter. The mothers who had more access to that calm, present, nonreactive state weren’t emotionally cold or distant. In fact, they were able to stay connected—without getting emotionally hijacked.
They didn’t add more fuel to the fire. They brought the water.
Co-regulation isn’t about suppressing emotion—it’s about showing our children how to move through emotion with presence and care.
We do this when we say:
“I see you’re upset. I’m right here.”
“That was hard, huh? Let’s breathe together.”
Or sometimes, nothing at all—just staying close, offering steady energy, and holding them in our arms while their storm moves through.
The brain research simply gives us language for what many of us know in our bones: our presence matters. And mindfulness, practiced over time, makes that presence more available to us, especially when things feel like too much.
Mindfulness-based parenting (like MBCP) isn’t about becoming a blank slate or being emotionally distant. It’s about cultivating the inner capacity to be with difficult moments—like a baby crying or melting down—without losing your own centre.
🌿 Coming Back to Ourselves
If there’s one thing I’ve learned through my mindfulness training, it’s that presence isn’t about getting it right—it’s about coming back.
Back to the breath.
Back to the body.
Back to the child in front of us.
Back to ourselves.
This study reminded me that even in moments when we feel like we’re falling apart, the choice to pause, to soften, to stay—that is the practice. Noticing when we get caught, and gently returning, again and again.
And just like the mothers in the study, we don’t need to be perfectly still or endlessly patient. We just need to build that inner space where we can feel what’s real without being swept away by it.
That’s what mindfulness gives us—not a promise that our child won’t cry, but a way to stay near them when they do.
✨ Want to Learn More about Mindful parenting?
If this resonates with you, I offer classes and private sessions rooted in mindful parenting and body-based presence—tools that help us show up to the chaos and beauty of caregiving with more steadiness, clarity, and compassion.
You're always welcome to reach out, or to join one of my upcoming offerings. This path isn’t easy—but we don’t have to walk it alone.
With you in the practice,
Ashley
One last Little Thing...
Take a look at my darling daughter, Isabella. ❤️ She was on a half-term break for school last week and so got to attend my yoga classes that I offer around London. She participates when she chooses to, especially loving cobra pose and savasana, but mostly sits quietly, reading, creating, or doing some maths (her favourite subject.) I am blessed for and in awe of her every single day. She is my light and joy, as well as my daily mindfulness reminder ;)
🌀 Inquiry Prompt For parents
Take a moment to reflect on a recent time your child was upset—crying, melting down, or in distress.
What did you notice in your body as it was happening?
What thoughts or stories were moving through your mind?
Were you able to stay present—or did you feel yourself pulled into reactivity, overwhelm, or shutting down?
How might it feel to meet that moment again with just a little more space, breath, and self-compassion?
There’s no need to fix or change anything—just notice. Awareness is the first act of care.
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