Progress? Really?
I don't know how to talk about being a parent without also talking about infertility. These two experiences are indelibly linked in my mind, heart, and soul. One doesn't exist without the other. I have a lot to say on that subject so if you stick with me through that, good for you!
When Rudi was first born, it took him a few weeks to perk up after birth. I'd try to wake him up to eat, but he would just fall asleep at the boob or bottle again. It got us both frustrated so then I'd let him sleep but he didn't gain any weight for the first 2 weeks of his life and it was a bit awful. In fact at one point he was quite dehydrated and dropped weight. People kept saying things to me like 'soon he'll be sitting and holding his head up' and 'he'll be growing out of those clothes sooner than you'd think' and I'd smile and nod and inside I'd think 'but what if he doesn't?'
Eventually I realized that my lack of faith in Rudi's progress was a by product of infertility. We worked so hard FOR YEARS to have a baby and nothing we did made any difference. It is one of the few scenarios in life where hard work doesn't necessarily equal results. I had never experienced that idea before but the lesson that life doesn't always move forward or progress was drilled into my core being where I internalized it. And now I was unconsciously applying the same internal caution to Rudi's development. It felt like he was the same tiny size for a long time. People kept asking 'how much does he weigh?' and it was the same answer. His clothes were swimming on him. He wore Newborn size clothes for a month. We kept having to buy smaller diapers. I wanted him to grow but I didn't always fully believe he actually would. My faith in life moving forward is/was so broken that I would sometimes honestly think that Rudi would be the same size forever and he would never grow, not because there was something wrong with him but because progress wasn't a given.
Of course, like I said in my last post, that isn't true. He's HUGE now, comparatively. He's starting to wear 3-6 month clothing. He holds up his still-wobbly head. He studies his hands intently. The other day he laughed for the first time. He is developing and changing right before our eyes. He is making progress.
When I lived in Switzerland many many years ago, my host mother had a right way and wrong way to do everything. I got in trouble for washing the dishes in the wrong order, putting them away wrong, washing the lettuce the wrong way, sweeping the wrong way, everything and anything could be done wrong. And heaven help you if you did something wrong that couldn't be reversed. Eventually I grew very cautious and took no initiative on my own (not my style) because if I did I would inevitably get in trouble, so I'd wait for instruction. If I did do something on my own, it would only be things that could be reversed. For example, stirring a new container of yogurt. You can't un-stir the yogurt. Once you do it, that's it. I still, to this day, categorize actions in this way: if they can be reversed, go ahead and try. If they can't be, proceed with caution and ask those around you what they'd prefer.
I feel like this might be the same thing - a life long lesson that sticks with me, despite evidence to the contrary. Even though I see him learning new things all the time there is still a large part of me that feels it is not safe to assume progress in a linear fashion. Infertility taught me the hard way that life doesn't always work like that. Even when I have an example of the most obvious progress of all living with me!
When Rudi was first born, it took him a few weeks to perk up after birth. I'd try to wake him up to eat, but he would just fall asleep at the boob or bottle again. It got us both frustrated so then I'd let him sleep but he didn't gain any weight for the first 2 weeks of his life and it was a bit awful. In fact at one point he was quite dehydrated and dropped weight. People kept saying things to me like 'soon he'll be sitting and holding his head up' and 'he'll be growing out of those clothes sooner than you'd think' and I'd smile and nod and inside I'd think 'but what if he doesn't?'
Eventually I realized that my lack of faith in Rudi's progress was a by product of infertility. We worked so hard FOR YEARS to have a baby and nothing we did made any difference. It is one of the few scenarios in life where hard work doesn't necessarily equal results. I had never experienced that idea before but the lesson that life doesn't always move forward or progress was drilled into my core being where I internalized it. And now I was unconsciously applying the same internal caution to Rudi's development. It felt like he was the same tiny size for a long time. People kept asking 'how much does he weigh?' and it was the same answer. His clothes were swimming on him. He wore Newborn size clothes for a month. We kept having to buy smaller diapers. I wanted him to grow but I didn't always fully believe he actually would. My faith in life moving forward is/was so broken that I would sometimes honestly think that Rudi would be the same size forever and he would never grow, not because there was something wrong with him but because progress wasn't a given.
Of course, like I said in my last post, that isn't true. He's HUGE now, comparatively. He's starting to wear 3-6 month clothing. He holds up his still-wobbly head. He studies his hands intently. The other day he laughed for the first time. He is developing and changing right before our eyes. He is making progress.
When I lived in Switzerland many many years ago, my host mother had a right way and wrong way to do everything. I got in trouble for washing the dishes in the wrong order, putting them away wrong, washing the lettuce the wrong way, sweeping the wrong way, everything and anything could be done wrong. And heaven help you if you did something wrong that couldn't be reversed. Eventually I grew very cautious and took no initiative on my own (not my style) because if I did I would inevitably get in trouble, so I'd wait for instruction. If I did do something on my own, it would only be things that could be reversed. For example, stirring a new container of yogurt. You can't un-stir the yogurt. Once you do it, that's it. I still, to this day, categorize actions in this way: if they can be reversed, go ahead and try. If they can't be, proceed with caution and ask those around you what they'd prefer.
I feel like this might be the same thing - a life long lesson that sticks with me, despite evidence to the contrary. Even though I see him learning new things all the time there is still a large part of me that feels it is not safe to assume progress in a linear fashion. Infertility taught me the hard way that life doesn't always work like that. Even when I have an example of the most obvious progress of all living with me!
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