Happiness?

I'm not sure what prompted this, but I have been thinking back to the beginning of this whole caring for an infant thing. While talking with some other new moms, I recalled my deep desire - in the first two weeks or so - to believe in god, some god, any god. I remember catching myself praying that this would get easier - that I wouldn't dread the night, the endless cycle of short spells of sleep always followed by excruciating sessions of nipple torture. It was overwhelming at the start - the reeling, dizzy feeling that nothing could really be counted on except exhaustion and pain. I mean, sure, there were also amazing moments with the new little being, but there was also this fleeting, bizarre, fervent desire to be religious - to not only pray, but to believe something might happen as a result of the prayer...I might be granted some relief, some sense of trust in the universe that my petitions were being heard. I felt very alone, in some profound way. Kiyomi was there with me constantly - also tired and awed and completely bowled over - but I felt alone in some deeper way, like I was meeting some reckoning with a set of responsibilities that could never be shifted or altered.

Whew. That's all I have to say looking back at that. I still feel tired or overwhelmed or confused at times, but there was some kind of abject shock that I'm happy to say seems to have passed.

In its place, lately, I have been thinking about how quickly this baby stage will pass, how quickly I will grow old and all the little pleasures and pains of being a new mother will be gone. I think this has wormed its way into my subconscious because almost every night I have nightmares about - in some way or other - people I love dying or myself dying. It is all somehow anxiety about time passing, I suppose. One of the worst nightmares involved Ila having a high fever, followed by seizure, frothing of the mouth and cessation of breathing. I woke up sweating, seriously. The night before I had dreamed that my mother was dying of cancer.

The worst part about these dreams is that, when I wake up, I can't shake the belief that the dream was a presentiment, that there is some secret message about the future in the nightmare. Even if the exact events don't happen; I'm sure something horrible is coming. Recently, I have decided I probably have MS or some horrible tumor, and my mind is trying to give me hints about this through dreams and odd twitches of my body. Don't ask me to explain it; I can't. It's absurd, but I just feel like there is something wrong with me. My nightmares - which I have with some frequency - seem an indication that I am right...somehow. For some reason this is all very convincing to me, especially at 2 AM after having had a nightmare.

I've been reading The Science of Happiness and recently watched a documentary about happiness. It's fascinating - especially the fact that pleasant and unpleasant feelings are generally handled by opposite sides of our prefrontal cortex. The right side processes negative emotions and the left handles positive emotions. Some researchers have also found that people often favor one side over the other. About one third of folks have much more active positive sides of the prefrontal cortex (left), one third have more active negative sides (right) and the remainder are evenly divided between the two sides of the brain. Of course, especially after these nightmares, I assumed that I must be on the right here - that my brain rushes to worry, anxiety, fear, sadness more quickly.

I'm not sure I'm actually very objective, though. I always assume I'm in the most pathetic group. When I read, A Primate's Memoir, which describes in great detail the logistics of the social hierarchies of baboons, I immediately identified with this young sort of "second class" female baboon and her mother. I was struck, suddenly, with the realization that I was a second class baboon. These baboons were less popular in the group - meaning they were not the first pick of the finest males during mating. They, as a result of this, also didn't get to eat the best foods, have more safety in the group, etc. The less prestigious female baboons are more worried, less confident, more anxious, more indifferent as parents and less influential as members of their group.

Now, when I try to be objective, I think I am not really the mousy, pathetic, weak lower order baboon...but why am I always assuming I am? Maybe THIS is proof that I go to the right side of the emotional processors in my brain more quickly. See? I am determined to see myself as somehow crippled by negativity. Maybe I'm not actually very negative, but I am obsessed with seeing myself this way? What is that?

In all of this, I keep hoping that Ila will, of course, hang out more on the left side of this particular region of the brain. Apparently even ten-month-olds prefer one side to the other in processing emotion. The happy-go-lucky left side set are more confident, less fussy without mom, and more willing to explore and encounter new people and things. Let's hope my apparent determination to see myself as negative doesn't cripple our daughter! She has been sort of fussier lately, which is probably neither here nor there...but I am watching with some consciousness to see signs of greater tendency toward negative emotions. Probably I just need to stop thinking so much, exercise more - take the brain a little more out of the equation here.

Lisa, along with Henry and many of her family members were in town for Lisa's grandmother's funeral this weekend. The last morning they were here, we brought Ila to say goodbye to them and she was, as usual, unwilling to stand in one place. She likes to be moving around – preferably outside – and not simply standing still. She wasn't in a bad mood, but she wasn't really in an easy-going mood, either. So, we had some fun snapping pictures of her complaining faces as well as her smiles.

When she hasn't been fussing in the last week or so, Ila has been practicing getting her hands to her mouth. But, in addition to this, she now loves to put any kind of fabric that I lay across her belly into her mouth . She can't look at an object, decide to grab it and take a swing, but she can grab objects that happen to bump into her hands. So, a little tag blanket across her belly or a dangling toy that happens to touch her fingers or hands will get clutched at. Still, she's not really looking at the objects she grips. Instead, she seems to have no idea - or interest - in how they got there. It's as if the gods have just miraculously placed them in her hands for her to get to her mouth and slobber away at. She does look at objects with the obvious desire to snatch them up because she starts opening her mouth, looking intently at whatever it is, and making little noises. But, alas, her hands hang uselessly at her sides. She knows she wants to get things into her mouth - she just hasn't connected her hands to the whole effort.



Even though I don't want to, I think I feel a bit self-conscious when Ila gets crabby in public. I am trying to just relax and accept it – mainly because I don't want to be transmitting anxious and judgmental energy to her. I'm okay with her fussing at home; I understand crying is a big part of her communication at this point in her life. However, and this I wasn't really prepared for, I feel tense and inept when she starts getting upset in public. I think this will wear off – and I know that the people I'm around really aren't judging me, but I imagine they are. I am talking about friends and other new moms, so it's unlikely that they are looking askance at me and my screaming baby...but the mind does funny things.

I really do feel myself becoming awkward and doubting my ability to answer my baby's cries when I'm with a friend or in a different place. I so perfectly understand that it's okay for Ila to cry and get all worked up and maybe inconsolable for a little bit, but my emotions do not seem to follow this good understanding. They have a life of their own; a life that is, in this case, dictated by a fear that whoever I am with is wondering why I can't just figure out how to quiet her down and get to it.

I imagine this self-consciousness is extremely common for new mothers. Yet again, understanding this point and really believing it are two very different things. I guess it's an example of my perfectionism and the way that I harshly judge myself. I am trying to just see this discomfort and move through it because, at its heart, it is an unwillingness to accept myself as a new, learning mother and little Ila as a small, sometimes bewildered little baby. It's a wish for order and control at the sake of the messy process of learning to – in my case – be a sensitive and capable parent and – in Ila's case – a functional human being! I can't believe how many times I have to learn this lesson: be nice to yourself. Be patient.