F*ck Feelings (33 page)

It doesn't help that the major causes of horribly difficult kids, from genes to brain wiring, are due to parents but also completely out of their hands. The only way parents can control the traits they pass down to their kids is by using birth control, but after that, all bets are off.

That means parents always feel that their kid's issues are their fault, even when there's nothing they can do. If you want to have a child in order to have a beautiful, permanent experience, just get a tattoo of a dolphin riding a unicorn over a manatee. It will always
be with you, stay exactly the way you made it, and bring you and the world joy without ever crashing your car or getting a stupid tattoo of its own.

So before you freak out about your parenting mistakes and make things worse by trying to figure out and solve problems that can't actually be solved, stop and ask yourself how much control you really have. Your goal, as a parent, isn't to solve your problem with a child; it's to figure out what's solvable, so neither you nor your child has to go crazy.

The way to figure out what you can solve as a parent, of course, is to try everything and see what succeeds. Then, instead of trying again and again, accept your helplessness, keep up morale, and hope it's just a stage and not the birth of Hitler II.

Respect the parent who solves problems, but reserve your highest honors for the parent whose kids
are
problems but finds the courage to keep going and accept them anyway. And remember, being a good parent doesn't mean you should worship parenthood; it's worthwhile, but it's frequently an affliction, as you will often tell your children during their lives, that's not fair.

People like to say that childbirth is a miracle, but to paraphrase the late comedian Bill Hicks, having a baby is as much of a miracle as eating food and then passing a turd. It's a basic biological function, not the parting of a raging sea with a wooden staff.

Perhaps it's that kind of “miraculous” thinking that puts an insane amount of pressure on so many new parents during their child's early years. They obsess over every decision involving their personal baby Jesus, from what preschool waiting list to get on to whether or not they'll expose their child to the evils of TV to the precise plan for how they're going to bring their miraculous creation into the world (in a bathtub/yurt, with no drugs/extra pain, with a midwife/chorus of handmaidens, etc.).

There's obviously a good side to getting obsessed about the healthy
development of babies and children; fetuses and newborns are vulnerable, and the first few years of development have a big impact on a child's life. Parents who worry more about doing things right are probably going to have healthier children who develop a wider range of skills. Parents who worry too much, however, are going to make themselves and their miracle crazy.

That's because, in spite of modern medicine and new knowledge about child development, neither parents nor doctors nor the world's most in-demand holistic midwives have that much control over the strengths, weaknesses, and many potential illnesses that a child brings into the world with its genes.

The fact that we feel increasingly responsible does not mean that we have correspondingly greater powers over the outcome, just a few more tricks for heading off certain disasters. So whether you're responding to instinct or culture, don't let yourself feel totally responsible for what happens to your baby.

Instead of operating in panic mode, do smart research. Read all the books that you think will help (namely the ones with practical advice that are written by experts, not celebrities who happen to be fertile), talk to all the parents you respect, and reflect on what you think did and didn't work for you as a kid.

Parents have to make lots of decisions that may impact their kids, from minor (whether to name their kid Aiden, Jayden, or Kayden) to major (how to proceed if your child gets sick and the treatment can't be provided in gummy form). If you can calmly assess each choice's risk versus benefit, instead of immediately freaking out because the wrong decision could turn your child into a sea monster, you'll make your job as a parent, as well as your kid's life, much easier and even enjoyable.

If you've got the resources, go ahead and buy the best stroller, the finest dairy cow to ensure the most organic milk, the fluffiest sleep sack that will give your little one the sweetest dreams. Just remind yourself periodically that conception and early development are particularly susceptible to bad luck, and that your power to prevent it, no matter what stroller you wasted thousands of dollars on, is limited.

Give yourself credit not for producing a healthy baby but for doing your best to promote health in a chaotic world, and give yourself extra credit when things don't go well in spite of your best efforts. Childbirth may not be a miracle, but successfully raising a healthy child, despite what the universe throws at you, always is.

Among the wishes people express are:

• To make sure fetuses are healthy

• To make delivery a positive, safe, and sublime experience

• To make sure breastfeeding goes well

• To develop a positive bond with a baby right away

• To ensure normal development

Here are three examples:

There's nothing I take more seriously than my baby's health, and I know how important it is to breastfeed, but for reasons neither my doctor nor I can seem to explain or remedy, my breast milk just will not come in properly. I spent two agonizing weeks trying, during which time I was in pain and my daughter was continually wailing for food, but eventually I had to give in and start feeding her formula. I know I'm doing what's necessary, but I can't stop worrying about the harm I'm doing her immune system (and maybe her brain, who knows?) by not giving her the breast milk she needs. It doesn't
help that all the other moms I know react to my decision with barely concealed disgust, as if I were a war criminal or something. I can't escape feeling like I've failed as a parent before I've even started. My goal is not to feel like the worst mother in the world every time I think of what I've exposed her to.

I love my husband and we both really want kids, but I can't stop thinking about the problems I may be creating by having waited until I'm thirty-five, and then choosing a nerdy, fifty-year-old academic researcher to be the father. The risk, of course, is that between our ages and careers (we're both PhDs), the chances are very high that any child we have will be somewhere on the autism spectrum. I'd like to think I'd be able to rise to the challenge of having a kid with special needs, but I'd feel horribly guilty for purposely bringing a kid into the world who'd have to suffer through a difficult life. My goal is to stop being paralyzed about having kids (and what issues they may have) and decide what to do.

Right after my son was born, we discovered that he has cerebral palsy that affects his right leg. So far there have been no signs of mental impairment, but I see how much harder he has to work on crawling and walking than his big sister ever did. I wonder if I somehow did something to give him this handicap and I promise myself I will do everything in my power to make sure he never feels different and gets all the help he needs. He's starting kindergarten, so we moved to a school district that has more resources for special needs students, even though we can't really afford the taxes, and the teachers know I'm ready to march in with an advocate and lawyer if I feel he's not accommodated properly. My wife says I'm ignoring my other kid and making my son feel worse, but she's missing the point. My goal is to make sure this problem will never, ever hold him back.

It's hard to describe to people what most mental illnesses feel like, but if you want to understand how severe anxiety feels, become responsible for an infant.

Not only are these creatures completely dependent on you for every basic need, but they also demand constant attention and will prevent you from taking care of your own basic needs. They might grow, but your sense of duty does not shrink proportionately.

Unfortunately, most major problems threatening a child's safety and development can't be prevented or corrected, even by the most attentive parent in the world. Holding yourself responsible will potentially exhaust you, put an unbearable strain on your marriage, and turn you into the thing you fear most, a bad parent.

That's why parenting is the ultimate walk-a-fine-line job, requiring you to knock yourself out only for the big-deal threats and truly curable problems, while ignoring the multitude of terrible things you can do nothing about. That way, you can go out, make a living, and not actually go nuts for real.

From the moment you start thinking about pregnancy, you enter a world of worries and magical ideas about controlling the creation and production of a perfect, safe baby. Of course, it's the supreme importance of that task, together with its impossibility, that drives everyone into a frenzy of fear and guilt.

Yes, breastfeeding helps, as does good nutrition, avoiding alcohol, and delivering within close range of good medical care. However, the scientifically proven benefits of these behaviors help a little some of the time, rather than guaranteeing a good result all of the time. Besides, there are always ways to salvage benefit and reduce risk when the solution you most desire is not possible. Indeed, making adjustments and compromises is what parenting is about.

Instead of seeing yourself as a soldier protecting your baby from pain and pathogens at any cost, be a manager who has to assess the relative benefit, risk, and affordability of many different options. You never have enough time and money to do everything, so get used to feeling as if you're making compromises you're not entirely confident about while other people seem to be doing it better.

And by the way, there will always be other people, mostly mothers, with strong opinions. Due to their evangelical nature, it's best to view them as the kind of religious solicitors that go door to door; when
they start to preach breastfeeding and brimstone, just be polite, keep them at a distance, and lock the door behind them.

Assuming you've thought through your options and done your best with what you've got, stand by your choices, particularly when something goes wrong, as it sometimes does. Never judge yourself by how well your baby is doing, but rather by how well you're able to manage when your resources aren't what you want them to be.

Don't get scared by possible genetic risks until you've assessed them carefully. Newspapers always simplify cause and effect by taking a complicated study and turning it into a headline designed to scare the shit out of everyone over thirty-five. Read on, and consult experts to find out whether the risk is raised by 2 percent or 100 percent.

Remember, there are benefits to being older, geekier parents; the fact that you are old, smart, and have lots in common can make you better parents and partners. Your intellectual genes are more likely to give you a smart kid than they are to cause autism, and a smart kid is valuable, not just to you but to the universe. Instead of letting fear get you to think of nothing but worst-case scenarios, remember that parenthood requires us all to accept bad-gene risks while hoping that good-gene benefits will prevail.

If something does go wrong, like cerebral palsy, parental dedication can make a huge difference—for good, bad, or both. Stories about total parental obsession triumphing over ignorance, nay-saying, and bad advice always make for good TV movies and segments on newsmagazine shows.

Unfortunately, this kind of obsession makes for bad experiences for your spouse, other kids, and anyone who might be trying to help. If you are absolutely determined to completely normalize the life of a disabled child, you will exhaust your family's material and emotional resources without achieving your goal.

Learn as much as you can about your child's disability and decide for yourself what treatments and remedial programs are worth pursuing. If they don't work, however, or if they cost too much for the likely benefit, don't get obsessed or hold yourself responsible for finding an answer. Accepting your limits and conserving resources
for future needs is part of being a good parent. It won't give you a good feeling, but tough decisions rarely do. Instead, it will allow you to focus on other stuff, like just having fun with your kid.

A good parent is vigilant, ready to work hard, and willing to make sacrifices for his or her baby's health. A great parent, however, can bear the anxiety of choosing between various sacrifices, knowing that bad outcomes can result from good choices, and that kids are vulnerable to many bad outcomes that no parent controls. If you choose acceptance over anxiety, both you and your child will have a better chance of survival.

Here's what you wish for and can't (always) have:

• A trouble-free pregnancy and delivery

• A perfect, happy baby

• Good genetic luck

• Sufficient resources

Here's what you can aim for and actually achieve:

• Avoid pregnancy until you have the resources you feel you need

• Reduce the risk of problem pregnancies and deliveries to a level you can accept

• Make sacrifices when you believe they're worthwhile and cost-effective

• Negotiate management differences between spouses

Here's how you can do it:

• Assess the resources (money, time, partnership) you'll need to raise kids before having them