The Hyphen House

Empathy is the experience of understanding another person's condition from their perspective. You place yourself in their shoes and feel what they are feeling. Empathy is known to increase prosocial (helping) behaviors. While American culture might be socializing people into becoming more individualistic rather than empathic, research has uncovered the existence of "mirror neurons," which react to emotions expressed by others and then reproduce them.-Psychology Today

After another mum told me she was so tired from waking up twice the night before, I responded by saying something like "if only I just woke up twice! that would be heavenly!"

After I told another mum that I'd been up every 30 minutes with my little one (who was cutting her molars), she responded that her baby had just cut a tooth and she didn't even notice. My heart sank. I was at the end of my rope exhausted, while those two didn't have any difficulty at all.

Neither scenario is best.

I chatted with yet another mum this week who feels disconnected from her birth group because they have all become so competitive. Everyone has a better sleeper, eater, walker, talker, etc. than she does. She doesn't feel supported.

And then there's toddlers. When "Dash, we eat blueberries, not knives" results in a fit of hysteria, I want to tell her she's ridiculous.

"Empathic Lines" by Javier Del Amo Varona via flickr

I've basically decided I don't have the time or energy to be judgemental or competitive. But I do need to make the space to respond with grace.

No matter how much harder or easier my situation seems at the moment or in the past, I'm trying to respond to the present of my companions. "I'm sorry your sleep was disrupted, that's always difficult" is a better response than immediately dishing out my own concerns, trying to one-up the sleep deprivation. "Dash, I understand that you are confused that you can grab one thing but not the other and you're upset that you can't do something that seems interesting, but I want you to be safe" would be the kind of response that requires me to see things from her perspective, change my tone and support her while still setting boundaries.

We are wired for empathy, but it's also a learned skill. I'm trying to seize the different levels of practice offered in my life.

Each year in my American history course, we spend a class day with dohistory.org discussing the history of midwifery in the United States. Historian Laurel Thatcher Ulrich wrote the brilliant book A Midwife's Tale after deciphering the handwriting in Martha Ballard's 27 years of journals. This website allows students to analyse portions of the journal, advertisements, newspaper articles, probate records and other documents that give insight into 18th century American life through the lens of birth.

"The 1793 Man-Mid-Wife cartoon that you see above depicts one view of the controversy in the form of a 'Monster,' a half-male, half-female midwife." -dohistory.org

The sphere of birth was attended almost exclusively by women until the mid-1700s. (This timeline offers a good overview of the change over time.) "Man-midwives", male doctors, in the colonies (and Britain) began to compete with midwives. They offered more medical training, used drugs and they cost more so there was a status to it.

It's interesting to hear the perspective of high school students regarding this history. Most of them have never really thought about birth or questioned how it's done now, so it's a good opportunity to discuss it.

Of course I don't see male doctors as monsters, nor do I see medicalized birth as a complete tragedy. But I do think it's important to understand the historical context of modern birth. Personally, I'm quite happy I questioned today's practices and sought alternative routes. I believe my own experience was richer for it.

Does my child come first? My husband? Myself? Yes.

I often hear conflicting advice about care:

"Put on your own oxygen mask first."

"Your child is only young once - pour all your energy into her."

"If your husband doesn't come first, the romance will dwindle and your marriage will decline."

I actually agree with each of these statements. I just happen to think you can do it all. I prefer to think that my family comes first - all three of us at once.

Societally, we are so bad at living holistically. We compartmentalise everything. So it can be a challenge to live this way.

Photo credit: Graham Detonator on flickr

It's really just an extension of our egalitarian relationship. We attempt to operate based on needs and gifts/skills/likes versus role functions. In practical terms, that means that if one of us is working more, the other does more housework. On an emotional level, that means that if one of us is having a particularly difficult time, the other provides more support.

In our family, I constantly adjust the rhythm of who needs what and when. Obviously, Dash is tiny and cannot meet her own needs. But that doesn't mean I have to meet all those needs. She has her dad and a host of loving family and friends. Some days she needs me more than others - during a developmental leap or during illness, for example. Sometimes Eric needs my undivided attention and that means assuring that Dash will be cared for either with good sleep or someone else. And sometimes I need serious self care, which means I need to trust them both in order to give myself some freedom.

Each day is give and take. I have time set aside for just me, just me and Dash, just me and Eric and all three of us. But sometimes the days look much different and we all adjust. Open communication (even Dash has her way of communicating needs!) assures we all get what we need and that everyone comes first.