Blog #4
Blog #4
I had just finished a contraction.
Leaning over the hospital bed.
Maybe an hour before Desmond was born.
"Do you have any kids?"
I asked the attending nurse who was sitting with me.
Lewis was at home with Everett and Zalie and Joyce. Just waiting.
I had told him I wanted to do it by myself. Again.
"I don't. But if I ever go into labour with one, I'm calling you. I've never seen a woman in here as calm as you. In the middle of a contraction. All by herself."
I just chuckled and told her another one was coming.
After the next one, she said this.
And I'll never forget it.
"I'm serious. The way you talk to yourself during these contractions? It's calming ME."
And isn't that just it.
The way we talk to ourselves.
That stuck with me.
See, all my life, my inner voice has been one of judgement and comparison. Because that's how I was spoken to in the early years of my life.
That's how my brain developed.
But my kids have pushed me to figure out what I want their inner voice to sound like.
The way we speak to our children becomes their inner voice.
And our own inner voice is what will come out at our kids.
So I fixed mine. I didn't like it.
I wanted to respect my kids more than I'd been respected.
I let my mom guilt level me up.
I am constantly attuning my behaviour to the core beliefs I have about my kids, and my husband, and the way I believe they should be treated.
And if I find myself treating each of them differently than I want, I don't look to THEM to fix things.
I look at me.
What do I need right now.
What am I missing from ME right now.
How can I fix that so I can give them the respect I want them to have.
I'll be honest. The kids come easier than my husband does.
I still have beliefs about him that are hard to shake.
I was raised with something I call "forced thoughtfulness."
See, I had to figure out what my mom wanted for all the gift giving holidays, and present them to her in thoughtful ways. Without asking her what her expectations were or what she wanted. That question was unthinkable and insulting.
If you love someone, you should KNOW all that without asking. And I remember the year my brother was sent to his room because his gift didn't arrive on time. And the Christmas Lewis came to our house and had only a gift for me. She sent us out to find one somewhere. On Christmas Day.
And the whole time, I was FURIOUS with Lewis for not being more thoughtful.
Nope. So much trauma to unpack there. It's crazy.
Only YOU know you.
You should never assume someone knows your needs and assume they can meet them simultaneously.
THAT is the narrative I speak in my head now.
And instead of feeling hurt, betrayed, insulted if my husband "fails" thoughtfulness.
I say to me, "Only you know you. Next time, let's make expectations more clear for that holiday, or for that car trip or for that date night."
That's how I love me, and that's how I love my husband.
Well. I'm working on it.
And I help myself through the disappointment, just the same as I help my kids through theirs.
Big feelings can be managed easier these days.
Even in labour.
I spoke out loud to myself my whole labor with Desmond.
And when his little body joined me in my arms, the voice I spoke to me was the same one I spoke to him. It is so familiar now.
I've grown and deepend my relationship with myself.
And no one can feel my body for me.
No one can truly know my labor except for me.
And if any of my energy needed to hold Lewis and what he was feeling or fearing while with me, that distracts me from me.
My body is incredible.
And when my brain is in tune with my body and all its feelings?
It's amazing.
I am all I need.
And that's my biggest area of growth so far, I'd say.
