He’ll suffer unless I feed him NOW (and the goofy thing I did when I believed it)

I had to chuckle the other day.

I was interviewed about The Work and Parenting and Jacqueline Green the wonderful host mentioned my story of nursing my firstborn child and how stressful it was for me one time.

Because I was nursing him in the car.

On the freeway.

While I was in the front seat, and he was in his carseat in the back directly behind me.

My husband was at the wheel.

Yes, I was actually hanging over the back of the seat, leaning over my baby with one breast out so he could nurse, stop crying, and go back to sleep.

Which he did.

I so wish I had The Work at the time.

I was filled with a reaction to his cries and that it meant I must rush wildly in emergency mode to respond to his needs, that we couldn’t wait to pull over.

Good lord.

I called it my crazy gymnastics move and I’m sure my then-husband thought I was completely mad.

Which I was, to be honest.

Mad with the belief that crying meant terrible suffering meant abandonment, and it was imperative that I put myself in actual physical danger. Not to mention it’s illegal to be without a seat belt, for good reasons. (Can you imagine if a cop had seen me and pulled us over?)

Who would I have been without that deeply stressful story?

A calm mother suggesting we need to take the next exit and stop a moment. Noticing all is very well indeed, it’s simply a baby crying, and I’m listening.

I remember doing The Work on this incident several years later, looking back on that situation.

With the thought my son’s crying meant “CALL 911 FEED THE BABY NOW” I felt almost panicked inside. It was interesting to sit with what I had been thinking. All those meanings I had put on that cry, and that moment.

I thought he could be hurt, feel abandoned, and suffer from hunger. I thought I’d be a bad mother if I didn’t show him I cared, and was there.

But when I turned these thoughts around, I saw that I was the one who believed in abandonment and terror of hunger. I couldn’t go five minutes when I felt hungry without being scared or thinking I should remain hungry so I would be thinner (even if I hated it). It was so stressful to be hungry, I had lived with completely whacko eating since I was 18 (even earlier).

I was hearing my own cry for normal, calm response (especially with food) and taking care of myself in a sweet way, instead of believing I both should and should not be hungry at the very same time.

I also saw in the turnarounds that my baby was OK. He wasn’t having some big emotional panic, he was just being a baby and crying in that moment. It didn’t mean I was a bad mother that my baby cried.

Thank goodness for The Work.

It has helped me question similar thoughts about needing to respond to my kids (now 20 and 23) like it’s an EMERGENCY….when it actually isn’t.

I notice I can trust reality to do what it does.

Even the “worst” abandonment we can imagine–the parent that never comes, vanishes, even dies….

….I can even take this kind of trauma and agony to self-inquiry, to question the meanings I’ve placed on people coming and going, on people living and dying, on what kind of response is required for happiness, in any situation.

Who are we as parents without our painful beliefs?

Willing, patient, OK with not knowing what to do, full of humor….happy.

If you want to see the interview I did today (the one with the nursing-in-the-car story) you can find it by signing up here and watching for free for the next 48 hours.

Much love,

Grace

P.S. If you want to read my nursing story I mention above, and much more about parenting and our thoughts….you can download it here.