Dealing With my Own Shit.
If you asked 1,000 moms what their response was when they saw the word “pregnant” or the two pink lines on that test, I’m sure you would get 1,000 different answers. For me, it was immediate joy (this baby was very wanted, but I know that’s not always the case) followed by a sense of confidence - I’d done this once before and I knew I could do it again. Don’t worry, the confidence lasted about five seconds before it was replaced by intense fear. Sure I’ve done this before and sure, it SHOULD feel easy, but like why does it feel just as scary and unknown?? Why are my symptoms so wildly different than the last time?? Why do I want to scream anytime anyone touches me (this is not ideal when you have a sweet three year old who loves to snuggle)??
Logically, I thought, I’m probably having a girl this time (my first is a boy). This made sense to me and then the blood test confirmed it… at first. And then plot twist, the next blood test said “male.” I called my doctor utterly confused and she explained that this happens to about one percent of pregnancies - the first test can have an error and the second one is much more accurate. Of course, it took some time to readjust and my sweet three year old had big feelings about this “change of plans” as he calls it. But ultimately, my focus as a mom is raising kind kids in an often chaotic world… It genuinely doesn’t matter what their birth sex is as long as I (along with my partner and village) are prepared to nurture them in this world. And that’s when I really got scared.
How am I expected to raise kids in this really messed up world?? And boys none-the-less - I would do anything for them not to end up like the kind of men I find myself afraid of. “Well shit,” I thought to myself, “I really do need to deal with my own stuff so that I can be the type of parent I want to be and at least give it my damndest to raise kind, empathic humans.” The next week, I found myself spewing all of this out to my therapist. She just nodded, smiled, and “mmmhmmmed” me. I finally stopped and looked at her. “What are you thinking?” I asked (yes, you can ask your therapist this too!). She said, “truthfully, I’m thinking that I wish all young parents came to me this worried about how their kids will turn out. What if that’s the point? What if all you can do is want them to turn out pretty ok, do your best at it, and then worry until it’s done?”
So, it turns out what I tell my clients is actually true… I really can only control so much - even when it comes to my kids… or maybe especially when it comes to my kids. I can want them to be kind, good humans. I can teach them how to take responsibility when they mess up. I can educate them and model kindness for them. But at the end of the day, I don’t even control my three year old. I only control my response to him.
I’m in a unique position here where a large part of my job is to help people heal from their complex relationships with their parents. I’m also a parent and I’m a child. I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of loving parents and I also know what it’s like to disagree greatly with your parents. I now know what it’s like to raise a kid (soon to be kids) in this world and I’ve never had more grace for parents truly doing their best and more anger towards parents who refuse to deal with their own stuff for their children. Both can be true.
It feels quite vulnerable to tell clients that I’m pregnant and even more vulnerable to share some of my behind-the-scenes process of this time in my life. But more than ever, I believe that in order to contribute to society, we must raise children who will become kind, responsible adults. We don’t do that by being perfect ourselves or by expecting perfection from our kids. In fact, it’s actually quite the opposite. It’s mostly done by letting our kids see us mess up, taking responsibility, and getting back up and trying again. Your child’s inner-dialogue is built by watching you. Gifting them with a healthy inner dialogue is the easiest when our children are young and their brains are so malleable AND it is literally never too late to say to your grown children, “I was wrong, I messed up.”
If you’re not a parent, you are a child, most likely an adult child, of parents. You deserve to know that no matter what your relationship with your parents looks like, you deserve parents who could deal with their own stuff in order to give you an emotionally healthy life. For many of my clients, this is not the case. Healing can come when we admit, “I deserved better and I can’t control them even if they are my parents.” Now, the healing is up to you.
One of my favorite lyrics in music today comes from a Noah Kahn song. He says, “I’m still angry at my parents for what their parents did to them but it’s a start.” Even if your parents never started that healing process for you, it’s literally never too late to start it yourself. And, if you happen to be a parent, join me in choosing to give our kids a chance at an emotionally healthy life by first dealing with our own stuff; Even when, or rather especially when, you can’t control them at all.