13
June
2008
Recently I was discussing how anger is treated in our society…and how we fight.
I grew up in a family that didn't fight. Well, other than my sister who fought and yelled and tantrumed well into her 20's….but my parents never fought.
They negotiated, discussed, debated, if they argued it wasn't in front of me. I don't know if they were ever really angry with each other. The most would be amusingly irritated with one another. Mostly I remember them being a solid, unified and reasonable foundation that I could fall into when I was upset.
I also never learned how to be angry, or what to do when I was. As an adult I learned how to handle my anger in therapy, how to "get my feelings out" and then talk about them reasonably with whoever I was in conflict with. I learned how to use "I" statements to avoid blaming, to stay with how I was feeling and not point my finger…I learned to own my own mistakes and blunders, etc…but I never had the opportunity to practice those skills then.
Generally, it takes a lot to get me angry. I find it pretty easy to be detached from other's reactions, to be able to stand and witness the anger of others without getting caught in the drama. (Another result of all the therapy.)
Until I met my ex. With my ex - the most recent one - I became volatile, often. This was a new side of me. I learned to become familiar with an out of control yelling, screaming, blaming, calling names person that I never knew was in me. This was not good. I was stressed and felt awful.
Before I left him however, I had found a way to react to him in a more balanced and healthy way - being angry without blame, etc…and learned to see my anger as a good thing. A message - something to pay attention to. "If he's doing something that I feel THIS angry about, I need to stop and pay attention!"
Now, taking these two extremes of my experience I've come to the conclusion (which may still evolve) that fighting can be a good thing, and can feel good to express and "have it out" when needed, but that fighting fair is really important. It's different from calmly stating you're angry - which also has a place I'm sure. But BEING angry is different from talking about it.
To be able to hold that high level of emotion, as your system is flooded with stress chemicals and the fight or flight response (making it really hard to think) and still be aware enough to keep yourself from blaming, calling names, criticizing, etc…but staying with your own experience, is not an easy thing. I don't think the average person can do it well. But if I'm going to be okay with having a fight, it's a must.
Also, I think it's good to have a strong enough sense of self to stand tall when someone else fights dirty, and to not get sucked in to it, or take it personally. To be able to see it as their issue, not about you. Also not easy (but one I'm pretty good at with all the practice I had from my ex).
So, I'm asking about your own personal experience with anger…and with fighting.
What was anger like in your family growing up? What have you learned, and/or how to you handle anger and fighting now? Is it different? The same?
Posted: Newsletter
6
September
2007
I think, to be a good parent, one needs to be willing to endure the wrath of one's children.
There is an epidemic of parents that give in to their kids, do whatever they can to prevent upset and disappointment, discouragement or failure. I think it's based on a belief that self-esteem grows from happiness, from not having anything bad happen.
I disagree…I believe self-esteem is developed from overcoming adversity…from tackling challenges and having difficult situations and working through them.
My daughter woke with plenty of time to get to school, 3 blocks away. She pouted on her bed for half an hour, not wanting to go, asking over and over if she had to…I finally said, "Look, you are in charge of your time this morning. You need to eat something, and we should leave by 7:40. I am not going to work harder than you at this…I am willing to be supportive and empathetic…but not if your attitude is going be this defiant and stubborn. You can choose how you want this to go, and you can choose to be late this morning, but you WILL go."
At 7:45, she'd eaten and asked me if all her things were in her backpack. "I don't know..that's your responsibility. And you should figure it out soon because your school starts in 15 minutes."
Oh boy. And no, I won't drive you. You sat and pouted for 1/2 and hour…these are the consequences…then she had to run back half a block to get her gym shoes.
She was late.
She was REALLY mad at me for not driving her the three blocks.
She is so scared, and it manifests as defiant and stubborn. She's begun three schools, including this one, and the first YEAR of each one was miserable because she does this…if it's not what she likes or is used to, she hates it. She glowers. But really, she's terribly terribly afraid and just wants friends. She knows NO ONE at this school, and going here is a decision made just two weeks ago.
I can certainly give her some slack and understanding. This is tough…
But I am not going to cop to her attitude, or rescue her from her own actions that bring about consequences she doesn't like.
When she does get through this, makes friends, gets used to the routine…she's going to feel that much more confident, and happy with herself.
In the meantime, when she's not around, my mama heart is very achy and worried.
Sidra is no longer a baby, so the rules are a bit different…
but ask yourself how often you relax your boundaries and
give in to what you've already said in order to make your
baby or toddler happy?
Ask yourself, is this action really to make my child happy,
or me?
Posted: Newsletter, parenting issues
13
August
2007
They seem so disconnected…birth and eating. But they aren't.
Recently, I had a client that was having difficulty and was concerned with her baby daughter's eating and nursing habits. While some practical advice was warrented, my first questions were "did you have issues with food or eating when you were younger?" and "Did anything happen at Baby's birth around food?" and also, "What was going on with your own relationship to food while you were pregnanat?"
There were significant answers to all of these questions. First of all, Mom had had and eating disorder when she was younger and though was recovered, was quite anxious that her daughter NOT have issues with food. This level of energy put into eating and food clearly spoke to the baby as "beware, this is not just about easing hunger and accepting nourishment…this is something that is upsetting and worrisome."
Second of all, shortly after the birth Baby was taken to the nursury so mom could sleep. It seemed like a necessary separation for an over tired, under supported new mom, who has regretted it since. This regret about the separation was compounded by the fact that Baby was given formula against Mom's wishes. The guilt and anger Mom has felt about that has layered on top of the already existing negativity around food.
And lastly, the pregnancy itself was difficult in that Mom had a hard time keeping food down, and morning sickness lasted several months. she was, and still is, concerned that Baby wasn't getting enough nutrition, adding to even more anxiety around food.
So, knowing all that, it became clear that for this baby, eating and food were about much more than nutrition, and was not entirely comfortable at that.
During our session, I exposed the multilayered field of distress that Baby was experiencing and combined the practical aspects of introducing new foods, and timing of meals and nursing with some energy psychology techiques for both Mom's anxiety and Baby's experience and newly forming patterns.
Within a week, Mom reports that Baby is eating solids, and sleeping through the night. As well, she claims Baby is happy and relaxed, "Like a totally different baby!"
Although relationships between food and birth/prenatal issues are not obvious, they usually can be discovered with some insightful questions and educated interpretation. If you think about it, the first time any of us took in nourishment was after implantaion, and was our first physical interaction with our mother. Therefore, often, eating and food issues are directly related to issues with our mother, intimacy, connection, and survival.
Likewise, if we have other trauma from early in the pregnancy, it can manifest as issues with food. My own story is an example of that.
I lost a twin brother directly after implantation. I know this due to my own regressions, somatic memories and the way my life changed for the better in several ways after discovery and a healthy grieving process. During one of my sessions, I "felt" myself implant, and felt my twin fail to do so. I had the sense that there wasn't enough nutrition from our mother for both of us, and that I was "taking too much." In my sensing of it, I had "landed" high on the uterine wall and my brother fell past me, unable to implant.
Fact: The embryo that is higher on the uterine wall tends to get more nutrition. I found this fact out after I verbalized the memory.
It all made sense. My paradoxical and lifelong struggle with food was a double bind. I had always felt that I ate (took) too much, but also that there was never enough.
Just a few sessions a few years ago addressed this dynamic and my relationship to food changed. I no longer struggled with a voice in my head telling me to eat that or not eat this…how much to eat, or how little. I was able to relax and enjoy food without the guilt and shame that had accompanied it for so long. All my issues around food are not gone however, the habits of a lifetime didn't just dissapate…what changed was how I feel about it all. And that, now, is peaceful.
Please feel free to comment, or ask any questions you may have by clicking the title of this post and filling in the reply box.
Posted: Newsletter, Pre- and Perinatal Psychology, about sleeping, parenting issues
3
July
2007
It's summertime and so many people aretraveling. Family reunions, vacations, andother family matters have sent a few queriesmy way regarding tips for making the experienceof traveling with a baby a pleasant one.You hear horror stories about screaming kids in car on long drives. You may have been on a plane with a restless toddler that was disturbing the other passengers.It's pretty common to dread the prospect of beingone of those parents that struggle to keep their baby quiet in the midst of frustrated and judgmental strangers, or just to keep sane if
you are stuck in a car with an upset child.
There are ways to prevent a lot of distress.
When my daughter was 18 months old, we went on
a two-week car trip through Western Montana. She
did great. Now, we were lucky that she was (and
still is) a very mellow kid. But I also helped her
by including her in the travel plans, telling her
what was going to happen, what was happening, and
what had just happened every day.
She knew what to expect. I reminded her what wasn't
changing, and what was going to be different.
That information helped her integrate her experience
and orient herself to her new surroundings and rhythm
of each day.
Babies and young children often get forgotten in
the plans. We forget that they can understand us,
and need to be included. Because they can't talk
like we are used to communicating it's so easy to
assume they don't care what happens to them, that
they aren't aware of the changes as long as their
basic needs are met: sleep, hunger, comfort and
having familiar faces near.
But imagine having your spouse come in and start packing
a bag for you, talking to others about something, the
stress level increasing - even good stress - and then
one day, your spouse comes in, takes your hand, and leads
you to the car stuffed full, or an airport…but no
one says a word to YOU about where you are going, what's
happening, how long you'll be away - maybe forever????
Think about all the differences on a plane: weird air,
loud sounds, new people, video screens everywhere,
disorienting sensations, ear popping, sitting in a
crowded row of seats…not to mention if there are
any less than understanding folks nearby sending
non-verbal messages that they don't like you.
Add to that any stress your spouse might have, that
frantic, anxious energy trying to make sure you don't
squawk but remain cheerful…and encouraging you to
sleep amidst all that! Yeah, right! Unless, that is
your preferred coping mechanism for stress, sleeping
would be difficult.
Now, that's just the flight. Then, you find yourself
in a brand new place. New smells, accents, language maybe…
new faces, sounds…happy people that want to kiss you
but you don't know them at all…
Hmmm….do you start to understand what a baby might
go through? It's no less than that, and is perhaps
even more.
But talking to your baby about it all, keeping her
in the loop about plans, unfamiliar noises, people
and experiences will help.
Also, doing your own work to stay calm and centered
if your baby gets fussy is so important. If you are
upset - especially if your baby is - that sends the
message that "indeed, things are NOT okay, and are very
worrisome right now" and THAT can increase your baby's
distress.
Some further tips are to buy some age-appropriate toys
and give them out over the course of the trip rather
than all at once. And simple toys can be amazing. Sidra
was occupied by a wooden string of rainbow colored
beads on elastic for hours and hours.
Also, travel in the car early in the morning, during nap
times, and after meals. Stop often for breaks during the
peak active times during the day. Learn finger plays,
kid songs, and expect to do a lot of peek-a-boo if
someone else is driving!
Some good kid music choices are: anything by The Green
Chile Jam Band ; Raffi ; Red Grammar ; and Jake who is my favorite!
Enjoy your trip!
Posted: Newsletter
21
May
2007
I don't ever get that question directly…
When I talk to clients, they don't come right out and ask "Am I a good mother?" The question is there, though. It's in the nervous way they sometimes interact with their baby - not an unusual thing when you are in the presence of someone "trained" or "an expert" in the field of parenting.
Let me just clarify - I don't consider myself "expert"…that's not to say I'm not good and knowledgable about what I do, but it is to say that to me, "expert" lends itself to thinking "I know what's right for you or your baby."
I don't.
(Note: if I suspect abuse, still, I don't tell people what to do, but I may suggest strongly, and I am obligated to tell Child Protective Services)
I have information that could be helpful if it resonates with you. I have training that could be useful in helping you and your baby find a deeper sense of connection, meaning, health and joy together. But I don't consider myself to be an expert about YOU as a mother (or father, or caregiver).
I have a client that recently chose to use the Ferber method to help her little boy sleep. To help HER sleep. She was exhausted, and due to circumstances of our scheduling, I wasn't able to help her find immidiate relief - she needed sleep NOW.
Many of the people I know, in my field and in my circle of friends, disagree with Ferber's method. They equate it with letting their baby "cry it out" and say it seems harsh and teaches the baby that no one is there for them.
I have to admit I believed this too. I never even looked at the book when my daughter was a baby and I don't suggest it to my clients. However, when my client told me she was beginning to "Ferberize" I decided to educate myself about it.
I know my client. I know she is a warm, loving mother, that has an easy way with her baby. She communicates well with him, is confident in my presence and it's clear he knows he is loved by her. However, the sleep issue. Both of them weren't sleeping. The help I could offer in between my being away and her vacation, and I think an illness in there as well was limited. So she made a decision, told me, and who am I to say it isn't the right thing to do? I don't know what is right for her and for her son!
So I read about Ferber and his method. It doesn't condone letting your baby cry alone for hours. It doesn't say you shouldn't care. It did seem like an approach that might be right for someone that needed to do something in order to get sleep so they could be the mother they wanted.
Not unlike when I stopped nursing my toddler at night, cold turkey. At 2 1/2 she was still waking several times a night to nurse. I was, until then, of the opinion that child-led nursing was right for me. It was, until I realized that years had gone by and between her night wakings and my husbands heavy snoring I hadn't slept more than 20 minutes at a time for YEARS.
I let her cry in my arms the first night I didn't nurse her. She cried for three hours straight. I supported her, empathized with her, she knew she wasn't alone, and she didn't get what she wanted. The next night she cried for 45 minutes. The next night she woke up, was awake for half an hour, but didn't cry at all, and after that she slept through the night.
From what I can tell from the Ferber method, a parent goes in and lets the baby know they aren't alone, regularly, at increasing intervals of time.
I probably wouldn't have done that, but I know many people that wouldn't have done what I did with my toddler. But it was right for me, and my confidence in that is what carried us through the tears.
I don't tell my clients what to do. I tell them how I can help. The Ferber method has helped my client, and I believe it will help us with the overall issues she and her son are grappling with…what's not helped by being rested?
I told her (even though she didn't ask outright) that she is a GREAT mother. Not because she did or didn't do a certain thing, but because she made a decision and followed through, trusting herself to make choices for her and her son in the face of a lot of controversy. I told her that there will likely be many times that she makes a decision that her son won't like. But regardless, if she is confident in it, that alone will be enough for her son to thrive.
So, are you a good mother?
I'd say, if you are doing your best and loving your child and getting help when you need it - YES. And if you aren't doing those things? You probably still are…but it's not me that decides.
Posted: Newsletter, about sleeping, crying, parenting issues
4
May
2007
I've been thinking about my nephew a lot lately. He recently passed away - just before his 13th birthday. Way too soon for all of us that knew him. So, remembering him helps with the process of grieving.
Cole was born premature. He began his life outside the womb with a C-section, 45 minutes after his twin sister was born vaginally. Once born, he was treated for immature lungs, and had many procedures, and needles, and lived in an isolette in the neonatal ICU until he was stable, and eventually could go home.
Do you wonder how much your baby remembers from his or her, and for how long?
Let me tell you this story about Cole:
He was about three years old, and I took him to Seattle's Woodland Park Zoo for the day. After a short while of walking around and looking at animals, what pleased him most was the vast green field - completely open with gentle slopes at the edges. He was a very active toddler and the space to run and run and run was irrisitable. So we ran, and played, and rolled down the hills, and began "wrestling" until he changed that game into a "poking" game.
He started tickling me, and I howled with laughter - even though it didn't tickle much - but the giggles I evoked in him were delightful! Oh, to have such influence that he could make a grown-up weak and helpless! It wasn't long before his tickles turned into light pokes, and eventually harder pokes. I set a boundary: "Cole, that hurts my body to poke me like that. You can poke me like this though…" and I showed him what pressure was okay. This time, the game evolved into my pretending to be hurt, and obviously reacting out of proportion to what he was doing. "OH! OW OW OW!!" and he'd laugh and laugh…
I wondered, as we played, if this was helpful in healing his fears and upsets from all the needles he had stuck in him at birth. Moments after I wondered that (to myself) he stopped poking, and got quiet, and seemed a little scared. "Auntie Dylan," he began, "Are you ever gonna hurt me?" I matched his mood and reassured him that I was not EVER going to hurt him. I contined by affirming what I think he was referring to, "You did get hurt right after you were born, when people were poking you, didn't you?" He nodded, and then lifted his shirt and showed me a scar he had on his torso. I said, "Yeah, that must have been scary…and it must have hurt. And we were playing just now, and I will never hurt you."
Just as quickly he shifted back into playing with me, and that was all he ever said to me about his birth.
I think that we all remember our births, and even before. It's all recorded in our brains, our bodies, and our systems. The memories are not stored in our intellectual brains, where we expect memories to be, but they are accessible and can be found in our bodies with helpful tools, modalties and techniques of identifying them. And of course, spontaneous memories may surface all on their own. In the case of negative memories, these can arise in the form of discomfort in a certain situation, "illogical" reactions to experiences or words, irrational fears and our limiting beliefs about self and the world. Patterns of behaviour, and habits of interactions are also built from our earliest experiences - positive and negative.
Cole's identification of his own fears helped him to ask me about it, and then gain trust in me. Trust for those involved in his care at his birth was in short supply. His inherant brilliance at following a game until he felt uncomfortable, and then asking what he needed to know in order to be comfortable again is a sign not just of his ability to remember and be affected by his birth, but also know what he needed from me in order to help resolve those experiences.
Your baby and toddler may be telling you about his or her birth over and over…it's just about learning to know what they can remember, what might be needing resolution, and how to interpret it and respond.
Posted: Newsletter
11
April
2007
Life has taken some unexpected, and rather painful, turns for our family in the past month.
On March 13, my almost 13-year old nephew died suddenly from a burst aneurism in his brain. My sister, my two nieces and my brother-in-law were surrounded by caring, love, friendship and support by so many people during that week.
As I leaned into my husband for the support I needed, and in turn supported my sister in her grief, I was caught in a challenging mix of emotions and thoughts.
In addition to my own grief at Cole's death, I was aware of how distant I felt from him and his family. I live far away from my sister and her family - both physically as well as emotionally - we are very different creatures and have very separate lifestyles. In the past there have been times when finding our love for each other has been hard amid the wildly different choices we've made for ourselves as adults.
But the love is there.
I was able to see how judgments of our differences fell away in the face of such an immense loss. I saw my sister as a mother who just lost her son. As a friend leaning into those she spends her days with: her circle of friends is more family-like and more immediate that anything I have myself, and nothing I could claim to be part of, and yet I was part of it, and looked to for comfort.
My own grief had its own color. The fragility of life. The impermanence and precariousness we live with every day, the light of a child gone.
My heart was - and still is - breaking for my sister. We are not wired to survive our children, and as her days continue, and she continues to get up each day, be there for her two girls and her husband, as well as herself, I see in her a strength that puts me in awe.
She told me that she feels support from people she doesn't even know. She feels hands at her back holding her up when she can't stand on her own, and knows there are prayers being sent to her and her family daily…hourly…every moment.
Life's rhythm continues. Even if we falter, stumble, fall down and skip some beats, eventually we find that rhythm again and we go on.
Coley had the rhythm of life in his bones. He was a talented drummer, even though he began drumming only six months ago. He walked to his own inner rhythm, as we all do, but chose to express that rhythm to the world in a way that got us all dancing and laughing with him. Even from a distance.
My sister and her husband chose to donate Cole's organs. Cole's lungs and kidneys were given to people waiting for a miracle in Washington state.. His heart was beating again in a 14-year old boy in California within a day.
It brings me comfort to know he lives on in other people…that his life has been a gift, not just to us that knew him but to others that didn't.
Cole's death has been the start of a series of events that have faced me with the reality of change and impermanence and the value of connection.
My marriage was somewhat unstable until the day before Cole's death, when we had a breakthrough in our understanding of each other. And Cole's death gave my husband, daughter and I the chance to pull together as a family in a crisis for the first time. As a stepfamily, this is really a huge thing for us.
Since then we continue to struggle, but we are struggling forward, and solidly - all three of us. I look at Sidra and the me that is Mama Bear wants everything to be alright, all the time. I cherish her even more in the shadow of the death of her cousin. I long to provide stability in an unstable world, and to reassure her when I am not assured myself.
And then another event: Last week my mother - in Saipan leading a training for work - broke her femur. There are further complications about her health, requiring me to travel to Saipan next week to accompany her on the 18-hour flight home.
My sister and I have been in closer contact in the last month than we have been in the last year, coming to the conclusion in our talks that we have to begin thinking about our mother's future and her care for when she cannot care for herself, and in that finding our bond that has wanted strengthening.
This is not going to be an easy series of discussions for any of us. But my sister in whatever way she can, and myself and our mother will hold each other up while we find this new rhythm together.
And on top of Cole's death, and daily family dynamics, it's a lot to handle at once.
But it's like parenting…it has to be done no matter how terrible we feel. No matter how overwhelmed, or how much we want to stay in a wishful place of wanting it all to be easier.
It's why not only does "it take a village to raise a child," but it also takes a village to live a life. We can't always do everything. We need support, an extra set of hands, a shoulder to cry on. Another brain to think with.
And we can't protect our children from life or death…and in fact it would be a disservice to them to do so.
We learn our limits and our strengths in the face of adversity. And we learn to ask for help when we need it. And we can't rob our children of those things. We can't rob ourselves of those things. And I stand bracing myself, or curl up, or walk forward singing, I am aware that I am learning about me, in a whole new way. I am learning about those I love. Those I judge, and those I fear.
I find my rhythm, honor it, and follow it. And the beat goes on.
Posted: Newsletter, Uncategorized, parenting issues
22
March
2007
Several clients have shared with me the frustration of feeling their identity slip away from them as they move into the role of mother.
I wrote an article on that a few months ago on that very subject (find it here). In this article, I discuss how to prioritize your needs and wants to help find balance in your life and integrate your new role as a parent.
Recently, I was reminded that it wasn't only the role itself, but how the emotions that were triggered by her baby were so new and unfamiliar that my client said, "these feelings are all so new! I just don't recognize myself with how I am acting!"
Have you ever reacted to your baby in ways that are completely foreign to you?
I can tell you although I spent many years - decades even - caring for the children of others all day long, that once I had my own baby, caring for her was surprising in its intensity.
I found myself with a range of emotions during the day that went deeper, came out quicker, and were more difficult to manage than anything I had ever experienced before.
My frustration when she wouldn't sleep caused me to get angry in a way that that I had never experienced in myself. I had always been so easy-going and calm, but when she, as a toddler, wouldn't nap I found myself so angry that I wanted to hit her!
And I never felt I was a very controlling person, but if Sidra didn't do what I wanted her to do - NEEDED her to do for my own sanity - I sometimes would just fall apart.
Does any of this sound familiar?
My experience, both with myself and with clients has taught me that this is not unusual.
If you've ever heard someone say, "Your child will push every button you have" you might have thought it an exaggeration…I know I did, after all, I took care of a zillion babies and children, my buttons had been pushed if they were going to get pushed at all!
Right?
Wrong!
Why do our own children bring out in us the characteristics that we don't want to see - indeed, the things we don't even know are THERE?
There is a connection we have with those that are most special to us, and that depth of intimacy has as its core the ability to illuminate all that is needing healing. A phrase I really like is:
Love Brings Up Everything Unlike Itself.
You may have experienced this with a life partner. But who knew that a tiny little person like your baby could evoke the kind of reactions and feelings you are finding yourself having?
Our babies are our teachers in many ways. (I know, I've got clichés coming out my ears in this article!) But it's true.
Think about what bugs you the most about your baby, or her behaviour? What is it that is wanting to get looked at inside you? Is it a control issue? Is it a deep fear of being good enough? Are you neglecting to process and heal uncomfortable feelings about being a mother or father?
Many times it's important to stop focusing on how to change our babies so that we can be happier, but take a good look at what's happening inside ourselves that is being reflected by them, or drawn out by them.
What unconscious dynamic is your baby reacting to when he has difficult behaviours? When he won't sleep, or when he resists your comfort?
Yes, often a baby is trying to tell you of his own experience and looking for empathy…but if this is resonating for you, maybe look honestly inside yourself for the places that are resistant to being a mother. Or seek to resolve the unresolved issues from your past that might be in the field of awareness within your family.
If you are finding yourself at odds with your baby, and triggered emotionally more than you ever thought you could be, be reassured you are not alone, or even unusual.
And then find the support you need to look inside yourself to identify and heal.
When I finally got support for the frustration I felt when my toddler wouldn't nap, I found a new level of awareness of what being a toddler was like for me, growing up in my family, and was able to move through some issues that I would never have found if not for my daughter.
And although she didn't settle down for a nap after that, (instead she stopped taking them), more importantly, I stopped trying to control her which was making us both miserable.
When we take responsibility for our own emotions and reactions, we have a whole new world open to us as a way of knowing ourselves and our babies more deeply. And with any luck, we can become more of who we are, which is really what our babies ask of us anyway.
Posted: Newsletter, crying, parenting issues
5
March
2007
This is such a common thing…so many babies don't like bathtime, some forever and some for a few months.
And it can be so hard for parents to know what to do, right? You know bathing has to happen, even if it's just a sponge bath, but sometimes, for some babies, water on their skin is so very upsetting!
How can you get through an essential activity when you know it's going to upset your baby? And why is it so upsetting for them?
Before I get to those answers, let me ask you this…
Have you ever had an experience that was really upsetting or traumatic, and that caused you to not want to do anything that reminded you of it ever again? We all have stuff like that….I am freak out about bees…anything that stings (although now, as an adult, I am okay with honeybees and bumblebees)…and I've been stung a total of 34 times in my life all before the age of 12…twice with multiple sting experiences involving hives. Even when I stayed very still…and didn't flap my arms…I have been stung.
I have a hard time with bees. When one buzzes around me I flap and squeal and look completely undignified and neurotic. And as pacifistic as I am, and cherishing of all life, when I see a yellow jacket I holler, "KILL, KILL!" and with a blessing that it be reincarnated as a butterfly, I squash it.
I am completely okay with this. I still love summer, and I still eat on the table on the deck on warm evenings…
But what if my fear was about something much bigger that affected my daily routine?
Babies have memories too. Sometimes bathing can trigger painful, scary or upsetting ones specifically from birth. Let's think about it…what does birth have in common with bathtime?
Hmmm…well, wet and chilly - even if the room is warm, wet skin is cold for a while, and compared with in the water or in the womb…brrrrr!
Hands, reaching to put you somewhere, or lift you out….for a C-section baby, this might be reminiscent of being lifted out of the womb…and for other babies maybe being carried away from Mom….
And drying off…wow, yeah, lets' not forget that first soft cotton blanket used to dry off Baby…for him it felt like sandpaper compared to the softness of internal body parts surrounded by water!
And if your baby has upsetting and unresolved feelings from his birth experience, it is completely possible that he has linked the entire process of bathtime with the time he was born…and he's trying to tell you about it.
Okay, that's the possible "why"….now what can you do?
First, empathize empathize empathize! Try and sense what it's like, and really listen to your baby. Reassure her that even though it was similar, it isn't birth and she's safe. Accept her anger and fear, hold it gently and don't shush her, but instead remind her she's not alone and thank her for telling you.
If you find yourself feeling triggered and emotional by your baby's upset, the above messages can be difficult to think of in the moment. It can be overwhelming to discover your baby has such strong feelings, and you might feel the need for support yourself.
Consider working with me individually to help you and your baby find flow and resonance about this or any other issue.
Posted: Newsletter, crying, infant communication, parenting issues
17
February
2007
Let's face it, no matter how hard we attempt to slow down our lives, they are fast paced. Meetings, deadlines, schedules…and if you stay at home with your child, you may feel pressured to "get it all done" during the day - and that includes going to the park, driving the older kids to lessons, grocery shopping…
There's simply a lot going on, most of the time.
It's normal for babies to protest a fast pace. How often have we expereienced a screaming infant in the grocery store or on an airplane? And I'm sure we all know babies who HATE the car seat.
What you may not realize is that if the pace is fast for us…it is light speed for a baby. And that the transistion from one activity or location to another can be upsetting for them.
Your baby's brain doesn't process information at the same rate that you do, so when you are moving through your life, and taking your baby along with you, she is experiencing a bombardment of sensory input, and may become disoriented.
Think of it this way…lets say you are in a foreign country, and don't understand the customs or language at all. You know your friend you are visiting, but most other people are strangers. Let's say your friend, either says something super fast in this foreign language, or doesn't say anything at all, suddenly takes you by the arm, and gently ushers you into the downtown streets and goes about her errands with you in tow - but with no explanation or time for you to "catch up" with what's happening. You go from place to place, and as time goes on, you probably become more and more resistant and try to get her to slow down…but what if she doesn't?
A little overwhelming?
Yeah…welcome to your baby's world.
Transitions occur several times a day. Anytime you move your baby from one place to another, or change the activity - like if you are playing with her on the floor but suddenly go to answer the phone…to your baby, that can be startling.
For some babies, transitions are bigger than the event itself. What was the biggest transition your baby ever experienced? You got it…his birth. The ultimate transition. How did that go? Consider that how your baby transitioned into the world is also how he perceives all transitions. Without going into a judgment of "bad" or "good" think of what it might have been like for him…was it a long struggle? Scary? Connected? Too much too fast? Out of control? Someone else's timing? Painful? Smooth?
Your baby may be remembering or reacting to body memories of his birth with each transition he experiences.
Next time you transition from one thing to another, go more slowly and talk to your baby about it…be aware that it might be a bigger deal to her than to you, and see if you can be present for that with empathy.
Posted: Newsletter