All posts by Avivah

The truth about what makes parenting so hard

Parenting, Self-Growth

I love sharing the principles of healthy relationships, and understanding these ideas and integrating them in your family life will dramatically cut down on conflicts and difficulties with your children. Parenting can become much easier than you have previously experienced. No question.

BUT.

To say that if you do it right, parenting will never be hard is a lie.

That is because no matter how much you know, there’s one big potential issue in every challenging interaction between you and your child.

YOU.

Right. You, the person who gives significant amounts of life energy to raise tiny self-centered beings into productive and contributing members of society. You, a person with feelings and opinions and a desire to be loved, respected and appreciated.

If you have even one child of any age, you’ve probably already learned that your child’s focus isn’t on letting you know how much they appreciate all your hard work and love.

They may even – gasp! – act in ways that indicate they feel otherwise.

And that is hard. Feeling rejected, unloved or unappreciated by these children you have poured yourself into is hard. Very hard.

But because you’re a parent, you’re supposed to act like an adult. That means finding a way to honor your needs and boundaries at the same time that your child still needs your love and acceptance.

This is hard, hard inner work.

The challenging situations I’ve faced as a parent have always forced me into this work.

The external situation: “How dare you roll your eyes at me, disrespect me, talk to me/about me like that?”

Is it okay for them to say these things, to do these things?

No, it’s not okay. Sometimes it’s extremely not okay. But you can’t make it about them. This isn’t about finding someone to pin the blame for your bad feelings onto.

You know, feelings like, “It’s not me that’s a bad parent, it’s this spoiled, entitled (you pick your personal preferred adjective) kid. I’m fine, he’s the problem.”

To appropriately respond to your child and guide him means that you have to reach deep into yourself, and take responsibility for your own sense of being valuable. And only then, you can give them the guidance and direction that they need.

Avivah

Give people a chance to participate fully in life

Parenting, Trisomy 21

The following video is about a 54 year old man who has a story to tell only because his parents flouted ‘traditional wisdom’. Funny how often contemporary practice is later shown to be completely wrong.

These parents were told to institutionalize him at birth, as was the accepted norm, but refused. Otherwise, he would have been one of the anonymous masses of disadvantaged infants that were never given a chance to be loved and cared for, and were instead warehoused in institutions with minimal care and certainly without love and nurturing, until their premature deaths.

Instead, his parents brought him home and raised him like their other sons. They were the ones who gave him his first real chance at life, who continued to make choices throughout the years they raised him, creating more and more opportunities for him.

To me, that’s what this video is about. It’s not about public speaking, it’s not about college.  It’s not about the salary you earn, how smart you are, or how high you climb on the ladder of someone else’s success. It’s about giving each person a chance to participate fully in life.

 

Avivah

 

When in doubt, empathize!

Parenting

Sometimes kids will say something that is triggering and even when you intellectually know you a better way to handle it, you don’t rise to the occasion.

And then you do something you regret, sometimes just one minute after the words leave your mouth.

Here’s a real life scenario from my home last week:  a son noticed the challah and bread knife weren’t on the Shabbos table, and when he brought them, told me in an annoyed voice things would go much faster if everything was already in place and he didn’t have to do it.

Now, I appreciate his noticing what was missing and initiating the effort to take care of it.  I could have commented on that and shown my appreciation. That would have been good and it would have ended right there.

But I didn’t. It didn’t seem an unreasonable effort to make and I don’t think it’s something to complain about. Especially since the table was set, the food was purchased and prepared, the house was clean, everyone had laundered clothes to wear – and almost all of that happened without his involvement.

Here is the trap I usually don’t fall into…but this time I didn’t make the best choice: “I hear you.” Stopping right here would have been perfect. But I didn’t. 

“But (here I invalidated his message because I wanted to be appreciated for my efforts rather than complained about…) do you notice everything else was done? (Enumerate all the things that he didn’t have to do.)”

Irritated teen’s response: “It’s not helpful when you tell me that.”

He’s right.

Every parent has her personal triggers and hearing my kids complain about how hard they work when they’re not doing very much is one of mine. Interestingly, my older kids who objectively did a lot more than their younger siblings at the same age rarely made comments like this.

Often I’ll laugh and make jokes when they make a comment along those lines, often I’ll empathize – but this time I pointed out how little is expected of this child.

Now, it’s good for kids to learn to be appreciative. But there’s a time and a place for that message, and right when they’ve complained about doing too much isn’t a good time to tell them how little they really do!

No matter how right you may be (and you’re usually not as right as you think you are), you can’t make someone see your point of view. The only way someone is willing to hear what you’re saying is when you’ve first shown your willingness to hear him.

What would have been the best response in this case? “I hear you. Thank you for taking care of that.”

When I put the focus on all that I’ve done, I haven’t taught him to be appreciative of someone else’s efforts. Instead, I’ve hinted that whatever he does is nothing compared to what I do. And the hint inside of that is, he’s lazy.

Is that what I’m intending to convey? Absolutely not. That’s not my intent, but that’s what he hears.

When in doubt, I find a good rule of thumb to be to close my mouth.

My twenty year old son sometimes protests when I don’t respond forcefully to a misdeed of a younger sibling, that he couldn’t have gotten away with that when he was younger. He’s right, because I’ve learned that in the moment of challenge is very often not the right time to teach a constructive message.  I was more actively corrective when he was young, but I now see the value in silence and patience.

Avivah

 

It’s hard to hear constructive feedback! Are you correcting your kids too much?

Parenting

Last week I attended the foster care roundtable, the purpose of which was supposedly to share constructive feedback with those in charge as to how they could better support foster families.

That’s not what it ended up being. During the intro we were told that we were chosen to represent 300 families, we were all known to be extremely dedicated foster parents and if there was something that concerned us, it was likely it was an issue for many other people. Then discussion then opened by asking about emotional responses parents had to different situations.

After listening to several people respond and then having it turned around and blamed on them, I lost all desire to contribute.

Then someone said exactly what I was thinking, that we were invited to give feedback and this conversation wasn’t aligned with what we had come for.

That person was told it was too bad she misunderstood the purpose of the evening.

We were the first to leave, and the person leading the session thanked me for participating. I probably should have continued to keep my mouth shut as I had done all night, but that comment was ridiculous and irritating to me, since I hadn’t participated at all. And I said as much.

“Oh, what a shame you didn’t say something until now!” This was exactly the kind of response that had been upsetting me all evening. Someone says something, and it’s turned around and blamed on them. And once again I should have kept my counsel but didn’t.

“Excuse me, but there are ten people here. I facilitate groups, and it’s not hard to see in a group this size that two of the ten people here haven’t contributed all night. A participant shouldn’t have to tell  you that!”

I was thinking a lot more than that, but even so I regretted saying anything since productive communication doesn’t usually happen when I’m feeling out of sorts.

Later I spent quite a bit of time thinking about if it was worthwhile to share my impressions, and when two days later my social worker solicited my feedback, I shared the relevant points to be considered when planning a future event of this sort.

By that time I was feeling much more understanding of the facilitator, because, as I told the social worker, it’s hard to hear feedback. It’s very understandable to feel resistance to feedback that isn’t positive, to justify your actions and choices, and to minimize and even invalidate the concerns being expressed.

After all, haven’t I as a parent done that plenty of times???

I tell my kids I want their feedback, but do I really want to hear the negatives, or would I rather hear the tell me what a wonderful life they have, thanks to me, the most amazing mother in the world? 🙂 🙂 Seriously, they can give me very kind and gentle feedback periodically, and I’ll try to integrate the suggestions.  Kind, gentle and periodic. I’m not too receptive otherwise.

I also try to remember how hard it is to accept constructive feedback when I give my kids feedback. It’s so easy as adults to feel the need to constantly correct our children, but can we realistically expect them to hear, much less integrate, all our suggestions and comments and directives throughout the day?  I think I would tune out for my own self-protection if someone was constantly telling me all the things I should be doing better.

Wouldn’t you?

Avivah

Our foster care difficulties

Foster Care, Parenting, Trisomy 21

Recently I was contacted by our social worker about participating in a new initiative, a roundtable discussion with the heads of the foster agency. I was told that there are hundreds of foster  parents in the Jerusalem area, and each social worker was asked to contact two or three parents in her caseload to ask them to share their experience.

I was also told that even if we agreed, it didn’t mean that we would actually end up being at the forum since there were potentially so many people who would accept the offer and at this point only six or seven couples could participate.

We said we’d be willing to come and later were approved as one of the couples to participate in this discussion in the coming week. It will be interesting to see how it goes!

———————–

What has our foster care experience been like? While overall I’ve been grateful it’s been such a positive experience for us, I can’t say that everything was easy and smooth.

If you knew about the difficulties, would you still have gone forward?

Yes, absolutely. The difficulties weren’t as big as they initially felt.

But in the beginning it felt hard.

My main challenge was interacting with the birth mother.

When they place infants with special needs who were voluntarily given up, social workers are looking for families who will raise the child to adulthood, so it’s much more similar to adoption than foster care. This is different than the typical foster care placement system, in which the child is placed with a foster family until his biological family can be rehabilitated.

However, even though there are very significant differences in these two scenarios, legally they are treated in the same way. One result of this is that although the birth parents gave up their child, they are expected to have regular visits. (With typical foster care scenarios, the bio parents are expected to have the child reenter the home and it’s critical that the child maintains a relationship with them and views them as his real parents.)

A parent who makes the decision to give up a child is grieving; even if it’s what she chooses, it’s a gut wrenching choice. I can’t fathom the depth of emotions a parent in this situation experiences.

Sometimes this pain came out in ways that were uncomfortable for me because I was the one who replaced her as Rafael’s parent and the negativity was directed at me. Based on our initial interactions and their gratitude that they found a family they were so happy with, I wasn’t expecting hostility and when it came, it was hard for me. If I had been expecting it, it would have been easier since I could have prepared myself emotionally in advance.

However, I understand it and now that I look back, I wonder how it could have been otherwise.

Isn’t it difficult to have to ask me for permission to see the child she gave birth to? Whose child is he, anyway? Isn’t it painful to have to visit a child that you’ve decided you aren’t going to keep? What is her emotional role vis a vis him supposed to be? It’s confusing and takes emotional maturity to navigate this territory.

I also was afraid they would see how well Rafael was doing, regret the decision they made *perhaps based in part on a much more limited picture of his potential), and then decide to take him back.

Since we were dealing with the foster care system that has a stated belief that it’s always better for a child to be with his biological parents, they would be very responsive if the bio parents made this request. Although unusual for kids with special needs, it has happened; sometimes years after giving him up a parent decides they want the child back. And they always get him (so I was told).

I discussed this concern with our social worker and it wasn’t reassuring. Yes, I was told, that could happen and has happened to others and it would be best for him if that happened because it’s always best for a child to be with his biological family.

I protested, but we’re his family, we’re the only family he’s ever known from the very beginning – how could it be good for him to one day be ripped away and sent to live with people he doesn’t know at all? He would be completely traumatized and emotionally devastated, as we would be.

Well, that’s foster care, I was told, and that’s the reality you have to live with.

It was very hard for me to live with that in the background. I worried that all my investment into Rafael might be our undoing; I knew he would do much better with us than with a typical placement. It wasn’t until our most recent visit with his bio parents when they reassured me they have no intention of taking him back and they’re only visiting because they have to, that this fear faded. Until then I couldn’t get a read on what they were thinking and intending, and I had to consciously remind myself that it was G-d Who brought him into our family and it was G-d Who would continue to determine the best place for him.

One concern I had in the beginning was about the regular involvement of a social worker in my family’s life, and particularly in the decisions relating to Rafael. The reality is that I have all the responsibilities of a parent but not all of the executive decision making powers that a biological parent has.  For the most part this hasn’t yet been overly constraining or invasive but it is definitely a concern.

I’m very fortunate that my relationship with our social worker is excellent. She’s been impressed by how we parent, and sees how much love and dedication we have for Rafael. She also happens to speak English fluently, which is nice.

(At a recent meeting with seven professionals gathered to discuss Rafael’s educational placement for next year, remarks were made that implied that I was limiting Rafael’s development by not keeping him at his daycare for longer hours. This social worker jumped to my defense and told them what a  dedicated mother I am, how everything I do is with his best interests and development in mind, and that my home is an incredible nonstop therapeutic environment for him. I was so touched to hear her say all of that.)

Those were the main challenges I had specific to the foster care situation.

At this point I feel somewhat like someone a couple of years after giving birth – you remember there were parts that were hard but the difficulties fade away and the reality of you’re left with is of the wonderfulness of having your child.

Avivah

 

Two years since Rafael joined our family!

Foster Care, Parenting, Trisomy 21,

Just over two years ago, Rafael joined our family.  His biological mother left the hospital without him when he was a day old, and for two months he lay in a hospital nursery waiting for a family. And then in what was clearly divinely orchestrated, a match was made between him and our family.

Many people have asked me, why in the world would we want to add another child with Trisomy 21 to our family?

You know how when people don’t understand something you do, they think you’re either crazy or put you up on a pedestal of righteousness? There’s another explanation. 🙂

After having Yirmi, the T21 label and stereotype lost a lot of the power it would have had without our personal experience. It became very simple – a child with T21 is a child. Not a label, not a disability, not a tragedy, not a burden – but a blessing.  Just as every other child is a blessing.

Knowing that the vast majority of newborns in the foster care system in this country are voluntarily given up because of T21 was very painful for me to think about. I would look at Yirmi and look at how our lives have been expanded and enriched. Then I would think about all these beautiful babies who were given up due to ignorance or lack of accurate information.

We knew a lot about T21, we had a strong family with a lot of love to give, we were open to having more children… and this is the direction it made sense for us to go in.

I would often think of the story of the starfish thrower, initially written as a 16 page story by Dr. Loren Eiseley. Here’s a very short video adaptation:

(A boy was throwing starfish that were stranded on the beach back into the ocean. A man said, there’s too many starfish, your efforts can’t possibly make a difference. The boy meant down, picked up another starfish, threw it into the ocean and said, “It made a difference to that one.”)

I couldn’t change the reasons people were giving these babies up (while I thought about advocacy on this front it was clear it wasn’t meant to be my role at this point), I couldn’t given them all a home, but I could make a difference to one child.

Just one child.

Yet every child is a world.

And so we applied to be foster parents specifically for babies with special needs (who are placed into the long term foster care system rather than being placed for adoption).

Five days after our application was completed, we got the call about Rafael.

Three weeks later, he was home with us.

Two years have flown by and we can’t imagine life without him.

Avivah

 

Getting older and wiser – parenting teens through tough times

Parenting

After a number of years of writing about parenting, unofficially guiding parents and repeatedly being asked to give parenting classes, eight years ago I officially began teaching on this topic.

Before I began, though, I called a very special woman with tremendous experience and life wisdom, Rebbetzin Esther Tendler of Baltimore, to get her thoughts on teaching this topic. We chatted for a bit as I shared my perspective and background, and my approach to parenting.

Her biggest reservation? “How old are your children?”

When I told her my oldest was 17 (I had nine at the time, the youngest was two), she said, “Well, then that’s just about right.” She was concerned about people teaching who hadn’t yet had that many years of parenting experience. Theories are one thing, living them through different ages and stages is another! (***see below)

This week I was reminded of her comments when I heard Rabbi Yaakov Horowitz quote Dr. Abraham Twerski, who said: “Every house looks good when it’s new. It’s how it stands the test of time that determines how strong the house is.”

I really related to that. There are things that I did as a younger parent that I wouldn’t advocate now, even though they made sense and even seemed to get good results. Good results in the short term and in the long term don’t always look the same. And you really do shift over time to realize that things you thought were important in the early years just don’t matter very much.

When kids are younger, it’s easier to think you have all the answers once you can get them into bed or off to school without fighting. 🙂 The more experienced a parent I’ve become, the more nuanced I feel about many issues.

I recently came out of a trying eight month period with two teenagers simultaneously bouncing their negativity towards me back and forth between each other. It intensified things in a way that having just one child irritated with your existence doesn’t. 🙂

Teens can see things in a very black and white way, they can be very judgmental and focused on their needs to the exclusion of everyone else. None of that is bad. It’s just part of going through that stage. But let me tell you, it can be intense living with them while they grow their brain connections and move towards more emotional maturity.

It was my belief in and commitment to my principles of parenting that I held onto during this period that (usually) kept me from succumbing to some of the things I wanted to say and do. That, and my husband, who would periodically express his appreciation for how I was living my values even when feeling very challenged by some behaviors.

I questioned myself a few times, wondering if it was time to lower the boom and snap my fingers and say, this is the limit and you can.not.act.like.this.

It was a very conscious effort not to get into power struggles, not to define myself by their definition of me, to respect my boundaries at the same time respecting their need to express themselves,  to look beyond the behavior and to remember to see  the wonderful person behind that. And sometimes I didn’t rise to the occasion the way I would have wanted to.

stormy weather

The winds blew through, they shook me inside (which is not a bad thing, by the way -more about that in another post), the sun came out and our metaphorical house is still standing none the worse for the storm.

These teens (who were always wonderful to everyone else!) are once again pleasant people for me to spend time with. The positive interpretation that I held onto about who they really were has been borne out and I now feel what great people they are turning into rather than thinking it intellectually.

And so it goes as a parent…one more challenge, one more growth opportunity, one more situation that you go through that leaves you feeling stronger inside but still grateful when it’s over!

Avivah

*** I’m not in any way suggesting that those who are in younger stages of parenting don’t have something of value to offer! Personally, I think that each person should offer what they have to share, wherever he/she is on their personal path.

My little act of gratitude and the touching response I received

Self-Growth

A couple of weeks ago, Yirmi had an evaluation for school placement purposes.

A few days later, I had a three hour meeting with staff at his school, who were shocked to hear that we had already not only scheduled the evaluation, but completed it.

Literally, their mouths dropped open. One of them clarified, “I was here 7 or 8 weeks ago and it wasn’t even scheduled yet.”

“Right”, I told her, “I tried to contact the social worker the next week and after two weeks reached her. She scheduled me for an intake appointment right away, and then the evaluation was scheduled within 5 weeks of then.”

They all shook their heads disbelievingly, telling me it usually takes many months to complete this process, and credited the social worker for her assistance in moving this process along.

After I went home, I thought about their reaction and felt it would be appropriate to express my appreciation to the social worker for her help. Just because it’s her job doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t let her know her efforts were appreciated!

I would call her and warmly thank you. No, I would send her an email. No, I could give her a little token of appreciation, like a chocolate bar with a note.

But I didn’t do anything. Because any idea I had felt too insignificant and any idea that was bigger felt too hard. What would I send, and how would I wrap it and I wouldn’t want it to be too fancy but I didn’t want to send something embarrassingly small. And then I’d have  to make a trip to the store for a nice bar of chocolate and a thank you card and cellophane and ribbon to wrap it all up.

Finally, I told myself that it would be better to do something than completely lose the opportunity, since I was clearly on the path to doing nothing.

So I took a plastic plate, put an apple, pear, clementine and a small bag of dates on it (that’s what I had in the house). I wrote a little note: “Dear Social Worker – Thank you for your dedicated help to us, we really appreciated it. Signed, Avivah, mother of Yirmi”.

I put a plastic bag over it, tied the top in a knot and popped in to her office. She was with a client, so I just handed it to her with a smile and said,”Thanks for your help, this is a little something for you.” She gave me a big surprised smile and I left right away, not wanting to interrupt her any more than I had.

A few days later, I got the following email:

Subject line: תודה על הכרת הטוב  (Translation – Thank you for your appreciation)

הי אביבה.

רציתי להגיד לך תודה על הפירות. לא הספקתי להתרגש ביום חמישי, אבל אתמול כאשר אכלתי את התמרים והם היו כל כך רכים, קטנים ומתוקים חשבתי שהם באמת כמו הילדים המיוחדים שלנו.
אז תודה, ריגשת אותי.
Translation: “Hi, Avivah – I wanted to thank you for the fruit. I wasn’t able to respond on Thursday but yesterday when I ate the dates, and they were so soft, small and sweet, I thought that they are truly like our special children.
So thank you, you really touched me.”

gratitude heart

Her note left me with a warm feeling  and gratitude that rather than getting stuck in my head and wanting to express my appreciation perfectly, I did what I could.

As the saying goes, “Done is better than perfect.”

Avivah

PS – Several hours after posting this, I had a meeting with seven different professionals regarding Rafael’s current placement in his daycare inclusion program. Imagine my surprise to see this same social worker sitting in the room when I arrived!  It’s a small world and one never knows when the effects of your positive or negative interactions with others will come back to you.

Isn’t it a pity? The real problem with special needs – video

Parenting, Self-Growth, Trisomy 21

I saw this TED talk quite some time ago, and after recently watching it again, felt it was worth sharing with you.

This brief talk sums up some of my thoughts on the realities of being labeled as ‘special’, too often resulting in being pitied, marginalized and excluded.

The environment we raise children in is an extremely powerful influencer of our children’s futures. We are individually and collectively constantly broadcasting meta messages to our children of their inherent worth and potential. This is true of all children, and especially those who are viewed as different (generally assumed to mean ‘less than’).

While seeing the positive possibilities available in special ed frameworks, I nonetheless have very strong reservations about these typically exclusionary environments and the nonverbal messages they convey to the neurotypical as well as differently-abled about the role that each plays vis a vis one another.

As a result, I have chosen to place Yirmi (6) and Rafael (2) in inclusive frameworks that are more supportive of the attitudes I’d like them to be surrounded with.

To share some questions of this speaker:

What if we looked at the disability as neutral and just saw the child and not the label?

What if we built a community where everyone belongs?

What do we gain when we separate kids and what do we lose when we separate them?

How would you want to be treated if you had a disability?

Would you want people to feel sorry for you, to stare at you, to talk down to you?

These are very important questions, ones that I started asking myself only after Yirmi was born and I was slowly internalizing a paradigm that resonated with me.

I want my children – all of them – to feel a sense of community, to feel a sense of belonging and contribution to the society in which they live. For kids with ‘special needs’, this can be hard, because there is so much effort put into segregating them from others ‘for their own good’. Because, you know, they’re ‘special‘.

Special stinks.

I don’t want my kids with T21 to be special.

I want them to be treated like other children.

Yesterday, I mentioned that Yirmi (6) has another evaluation coming up soon and my eleven year old asked me, “Why does Yirmi have so many tests and I never had any?”

Why, indeed???

Yirmi gets a label that says Trisomy 21, and is presumed to be so ‘special’ that he has to prove his worthiness before being given a chance to join a mainstream classroom. Not like other kids, who are presumed to be capable until proven otherwise.

I mean, would Yirmi or Rafael even develop and progress in any area of their lives if they weren’t being assessed every year? Amazing that non-special kids learn to sit up and walk and feed themselves without ongoing evaluations.

I don’t want my boys with T21 shunted to the side because they’re ‘special’, with a focus on how they are different rather than how they are the same. I don’t want them marginalized in the community and placed with those who are assumed to be like them just because they have the same label.

Truly, the differences are so, so small. Kids with disabilities want what we all want, they need what they all want – to be appreciated, to be included, to be valued.

This isn’t exclusively about those with disabilities – it’s really about us. It’s about how we value others, and the kind of world we want to live in.

Do we want to live in a world of kindness and acceptance, a world in which we are willing to make the effort for others to belong? Or do we want to wall ourselves off to be with those we presume to be like ourselves?

We don’t need echo chambers. We all benefit when we broaden our experiences to include those who bring something different to the table.

We need the willingness to live fully, and to love fully. And to include others so they can experience those things as well.

Avivah

Being with my daughter at her first birth

Parenting, pregnancy

A modern day twist to the philosophical tree falling in the forest question: if your daughter has a baby in the digital era and you don’t have a picture, did it really happen??? 🙂

Yes, she did, yes I was there and very, very involved – and no pictures of any of it.

————————-

Did you know that many years ago, I was a childbirth educator and doula? I stopped a little before my 18 year old was born, since the childcare arrangements for my own children made it impractical for me to continue attending births.

This was the first birth I’ve been at since then (other than my own, obviously!), and it was incredibly meaningful. There’s no comparison between any other birth I’ve attended and being with my own daughter.

My daughter-in-law told me she thinks it’s different if your daughter or daughter-in-law give birth and she’s right to a degree, but I think the biggest factor is if you’re present at the birth or not. It’s a huge bonding factor.

While I was willing to attend my daughter’s birth, I didn’t make any presumptions that I’d be asked to be there. Labor and birth is a very intimate and personal time, and it’s an act of trust and relationship to be invited into that space.

When she asked me to be with her, we talked about what she’d like my role at the birth to be. I told her I assumed she’d mostly want to be left alone to relax and be with her husband, which she agreed with.

That’s not what ended up happening. Things picked up very quickly and by the time I got to her house, she was ready to leave for the hospital.

A labor that progresses quickly sounds great, until you take into account the body has to do all the necessary preparations for the birth in a very short and intense period of time rather than being spread out. Quick labors are generally very challenging labors.

As a result of how quickly this labor progressed, I was very physically involved right away, and quickly was reminded of the incredible physical effort it takes to provide effective birth support.

I’ve never been as symbiotically involved in any birth I’ve attended as this one. I was aware in a way that I’ve never been before, how critical the level and quality of support is in determining how the laboring woman experiences and deals with her labor.

I’m not going to detail her birth because that’s her story. I’ll share my part – to move beyond feeling worried if I was doing enough, doing it the right way, or concerned about making a suggestion that wouldn’t be on target, and to have a complete focus on being present for her as fully as I could.

As the baby was born, she caught the baby and brought her up to her chest. At that moment, I couldn’t help but get teary eyed. That was when the fruit of all her intense effort was so tangible.

It was a beautiful, beautiful birth. (I wasn’t the only one who felt that – the head midwife afterwards thanked her for the privilege of being there.)

I loved that there was no rush to check if it was a boy or girl, and that she was the first one to look and to share that information.

It’s a girl! Yes, we have another granddaughter!! Re-balancing the heavily male dominated  Werner clan. 🙂

avigayil - 1 week

There was some unexpected challenges after the birth and the baby spent the first five days in the NICU. All is now well, and they are finally home together.

M and baby A, 1 week old
M and baby A, 1 week old

I’ve been blogging here for over twelve years, and many of you have walked alongside my parenting journey through the years. There are challenges, there are twists and turns, there are hard times and fun times. As a parent, there’s so much work and investment, day in and day out.

And I’m telling you, it’s worth every single bit of effort. It just gets better and better. Really.

My husband holding A
My husband holding A

Avivah