by Parenting by Connection Instructor, Tara McCay
I waited a long time to become a parent. At age 34, a colleague asked me if I was planning to have kids, I replied that I was on the fence. He asked again, digging a little deeper, and I replied that it would be OK if I did, and OK if I didn’t. I never, ever had the urge to have a baby.
“Wow, you really are on the fence,” he said.
And I was. My husband didn’t want to pressure me, so he waited. I fenced until the ripe age of 37, when I made the rational decision to become a parent. I decided, logically, that I would likely miss out on “something” if I didn’t give it a try. Yet at my age, I knew it might not be possible so I was okay if it didn’t happen.
Two years, a few doctors and one single dose of Chlomid later, I was the proud mother of beautiful, big, and healthy twin baby girls. (37w 2d, 6 lbs. 2 oz, and 5 lbs. 12 oz.) I changed my first poopy diaper when the kids were four days old, after we were released from the hospital. See, I’d never babysat, never watched kids, didn’t like holding babies, and knew not what to do with children. My girlfriend even had to tell me what a onesie was, as I had no idea. The sum total of my baby experience was in the two-session parenting class I’d had at a local hospital. I wasn’t the earthy momma that was all ready for the arrival of her kids; I was a career woman whose life as she knew it had just come to a careening halt.
The first eight weeks of their life was messy. Although we became quick experts at the dailies of life with newborns like feeding, burping, and changing, we had a few hiccups. Despite their great size for twins, they were little, didn’t have much suck and didn’t latch on unaided for 3 weeks. I lived my total life in 45 minutes segments, every three hours, the rest of the time was spent “practicing” nursing or pumping, this lasted eight weeks. I was cracking.
In the midst of this, one child was admitted to the hospital through the ER for not breathing at 2 1/2 weeks old. She came home 2 1/2 days later on an apnea monitor we had to use for the next three months. Her sister had a fever at 7 weeks old and had a visit to the ER herself. Both went through a battery of tests, needles, pokes, and the like.
We’d had a hard start. I muddled through and slow-forward, they were two.
I read every twins book, parenting book, sleep book that I could get my hands on. I got the good idea to look at my elementary school’s website, Play Mountain Place (PMP) to see what books they recommended. I bought several and skimmed. Attachment parenting never did work for me, how could I wear two babies at once? Slings and wraps cluttered my house as I tried to figure it out.
Soon after their second birthday, I had one of many parenting epiphanies. I realized that my kids acted like two-year-olds no matter what. On one day I would be fine with their behavior, the next day I’d get irritated. The kids were the same two-year-olds on Monday as on Tuesday, so the difference must be within me. But what was it?
We started preschool and marched along. I read about Discipline Without Stress, Parenting With Love and Logic, Real Love for Parents, and many, many other books.
I tried different ways and approaches but none stuck. Somehow I knew that a piece of the problem was within me, but none of these approaches dealt with that. I also felt judged. Either I was a bad parent and was ruining the kids’ lives (I actually had one “expert” tell me that), or the kids were the problem and acting badly, and I had to fix them. None of this fit with me.
I went back to the PMP website, looking again at the booklist. The kids were almost five, and I was so tired of them hitting each other. One child, the hitter, was so shy at school, she would barely mutter three words to her teachers. I was at a loss, as whatever I tried didn’t work. Offhandedly, I filled out a form updating my information as an alumnae. I added my wish that PMP offer parenting classes online, as I would take one. I got a reply from the director, who had been one of my teachers so many years ago, telling me that they didn’t but they referred people to this organization out of Palo Alto, who did.
That’s how I found Hand in Hand Parenting.
I scanned the website, read articles, and liked what I saw. I ordered the booklets and while waiting for them to arrive, I downloaded podcasts. For the first time I read parent education material where neither I nor my kids were judged. The approach meshed with what I instinctively knew. I could be off track and not handle my kids well, and they could be off track and not handle themselves well. Neither they nor I was bad. (Although, I had to do lots of listening work to undo the words of that “expert.”)
What sold me on the approach and caused me to sign up for the very first BEU class was this. I listened to a podcast by Patty called Healing the Hurt of Separation. Although the meat of the conversation was interesting, since one of my girls had big separation anxiety, it was Patty’s answer to a question that hooked me. A parent asked a question about what separation hurts looked like in a child. Patty said these children are rigid, things have to be a certain way. They hold their bodies stiffly, hands in fists at their side. At school they can be terribly shy, and not speak. Often they had early medical intervention or a hard birth. They hold the hurt within them and until it is released and healed, they are afraid of the world.
I was stunned as Patty had just described my child. This several months’ old recorded podcast, this generic question, and the answer was a portrait of my daughter, her challenges at school, her inflexibility, her fear, and her early medical treatment. Patty was showing me a way out, one that I’d never heard before. Let her cry and listen to her with warmth and affection. Or as I saw it, listen with the eyes and ears of love, loving her unconditionally no matter what emotional state she appeared to be in.
It was much later that I’d understand more about the emotional release process, how the brain works and goes off track. But in that moment, I had an answer to my dilemma. I had a way to solve my shy child’s problem. I could finally help her, because, of course, she was the one that had been hospitalized, had the most nursing struggles, and wore the apnea monitor.
I took a Siblings BEU class that began in October 2011. I got a listening partner, which didn’t work out, then another, which is ongoing to this day. Three of our BEU classmates wanted to continue working together. In January 2012 we set up a weekly support group call. It’s July 2013, and I still participate in that call. It has become an anchor in my life.
The adult-child tools worked for me, but the listening partnership was revolutionary. From my first call, I knew I was home. In a few weeks, I recognized what had been a key missing piece of my adult life, having a listener. I suddenly understood that I had been listened to as a child, but it was so much a part of the program at PMP, so normal, that I didn’t know it was special. I had no words for what my elementary school was like, because it was just school to me.
In the fall of 2011, I found the missing piece. And I never let go. I was being listened to, and as I poured out my hurts to a loving attentive ear, I was more able to pour my love into my children. Within ten months, I was feeling supported for the first time in my adult life. I wanted to share this with others and build a community of people who support each other in parenting and in life. For the sake of the children, but also for the sake of the parent. So, I applied to become an instructor.
Along the way, I’ve learned that Parenting is a path of personal growth. If we each took our hurts, frustrations, grief, and anger that get stirred up by our children, if we take and heal every restimulation, we can grow, grow and grow. Our children are polished mirrors. We can try to break the mirror or “force” it to change, or recognize that it is indeed only a mirror, and even if we do break it, we’ve only broken the copy. The original is unchanged.
This is why I want to teach Parenting By Connection. We can change the future for the children and for ourselves. If we heal the original––us––the reflection in the mirror changes––our children. We become available to support them. As we heal our family, we support others and our community starts to heal. As communities heal, the world heals. Peace. And it all starts at home, teaching parents how to get support, one class at a time. If all I ever do is get a bunch of parents listening to each other, I’ll have done a great job.
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Hand in Hand Parenting
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