Powerlessness in parenting

 Dear readers 

Raising a second child has, unfortunately, made me realise how badly I’ve raised the first. Anyone else feel this way? “Practice child” they sometimes refer to the first child as — “practice.” 

I was on the phone with someone dear to me recently, having breakfast, or lunch (or brunch). Just vibing. Amongst the chatter, I suddenly hear, “Eliza, isn’t baby crying overstimulating for you? Doesn’t it bother you?” 

In this moment, I was eating and baby crying was more background noise from the nursery. I was kinda hoping he would self-soothe. That said, I have never heard a louder baby cry than this little guy right here — as I write this he is nursing. Power to parents who can multitask! 

This guys cries SO loudly. He was preterm baby but I swear he was born with a third lung or something because how can something so small produce such a LOUD noise? 

But the good thing about my second born is that he is so easy to settle. My first born was not. Allow me to share you a journal entry I wrote four years ago. (Note this baby is 4-5 months old in this journal entry.) 

~*~

~ July 2021

I’m so angry and snappy and irritated — and I always voice these irritations. 

Maybe it’s a defence mechanism. Because I know what it’s like to feel powerless. 

And when Ada cries it’s because she’s powerless. She’s powerless of speech, powerless of controlling her hands, she’s only just learnt weeks ago that she CAN control her hands. She’s powerless of the ability to feed herself. Of even putting her self to sleep. 

But when Ada cries, she’s communicating to me that she’s POWERLESS and she NEEDS me to help her. 

So I hold her. Even if it’s inconvenient and I’m trying to shop around and there’s. a. pram. I pick her up. 

Even if I’m in the middle of cooking or hanging the washing or vaccuming. I hold her with one arm on my hip and hope that as she grows bigger, my muscles will too, lol.

And in the car when she’s crying, I’ve even gone as far to pull over once or twice to make sure she’s okay. 

Otherwise, I talk to her. I tell her I love her. The best thing I could do if I can’t stop driving is to keep on assuring her that I love her, that I’m here for her, that I know she’s upset, that I want to hold her but I can’t right now. 

Sometimes, Mummy is powerless too. 

Sometimes Mummy is so powerless that she’s crying and crying and tired and hungry and if I only stopped to listen, stopped to kneel, stopped to pray… 

Maybe I would hear my Heavenly Mother telling me that I am loved, I am heard, and no one is around to hold me right now but I am never alone. 

~*~

About here I will now disclose that I have been diagnosed with post-natal depression. I’m so afraid to share this part of me but I also feel like we need to talk more openly about this. 

Guys, my post-natal depression was really bad. Sure it was during “Covid-times” and in 2021 there were at least two lockdowns that I can recall, meaning we weren’t allowed to leave the house and people were being fined for going out without purpose or without a mask. But that aside, I struggled so much with adjusting to be a parent. I mentally checked out for two hours sometimes while Ada just cried and cried and cried, just waiting for someone else to come and pick her up. 

I had someone who would come and try to help but this person required me to do things for them. So one day this person came to help (thank God! Or so I thought) and I went to my room and locked my door just trying to decrease the pressure rising up in my throat and building behind my eyes. It was all I could do to just literally hide under the covers of my bed and wish for the world to stop spinning. I felt hopeless and I needed everything to stop. After multiple unsuccessful attempts to order me to do things for them from behind the door, my support person managed to secure the still-crying baby in the bouncer, and left my house. This person literally never came back to my house ever again to mind my baby.

It doesn’t matter what I was supposed to be doing or if I was being … ungrateful. The point of this story is to give you insight into my post natal depression. How bad it was. I’m talking suicidal ideation, years of therapy, years of medications... Family nurses and community nurses raising red flags in their notes because maybe, just maybe —this was never outright confirmed to me— the baby was in danger of me. 

(Hello, Tresilian. Iykyk.)

Oh Eliza from four years ago. I do not envy you. 

My husband and I both agree that I am doing much better this time around. 

Yes baby crying is super overstimulating. But the baby is the real person who is powerless. 

When I first had the second baby, I found it sooooo difficult to navigate my relationship with Ada. I was in pain all the time, sleep deprived and always thirsty. I couldn’t sleep when I needed to, and wanted to sleep when I needed to be awake. I love her so much but the problem was I wasn’t looking after myself and I certainly wasn’t paying attention to my own feelings and emotions. It was like a flood gate that was filled to the brim and kept gushing through every time Ada came bouncing around. 

When I check in with my own emotions, I do do better though. 

I wonder what Powerful Parenting looks like? 

I suppose Powerful Parenting is literally any type of parenting. Because our parenting will always have a lasting impression on the child. 

It’s just up to us to make the impact good or bad. 

A lot of people ask me, “how is Ada doing with the little one?” 

And I often joke, “wonderful! She’s like a second mum.” 

Because she literally copies everything I do. (Except nap times darn it). 

So when my children don’t meet my expectations in life, they are watching my response. And in time, they will mimic my response to their family and friends and to each other. 

And that is it from me this week! 

So what’s your take on parenting? What literature or scripture forms your style of parenting? Books? Podcasts? 

Im your sponge, fill me up and I will happily squeeze out more revelations as I continue this blogging journey. 

Written with love,

Eliza. 

P.s. Shout out to my support person who has since been my number one cheerleader so to speak and our relationship is in a much better place. Life is a game and sometimes we’re thrown learning curves. I’m grateful for each moment.