Re: Bonding
Cendra Lynn (cendra@falcon.ic.net)
Sat, 23 Mar 1996 22:02:01 -0500 (EST)
Hi, all,
I'm new and don't have time for a full introduction, but bonding is a
subject both close to my heart and one I also know a lot about as a
clinical psychologist. Bonding happens.
My first child came home at age 14+, the child of friends in another
state whose family was coming apart. She stayed with me until adulthood
and we are very close still as she approaches (gulp!) 40.
My second child came home on her gestation date, after being born at 28
weeks, 700 grams, no ventilators, no problems but prematurity. I saw only
two photos of her before she arrived in the arms of our social worker at
the airport, and those had really freaked me out. "She looks like a frog
with hair," was all I could say. But the bonding began 48 hours before
she arrived as I felt her spirit and mine suddenly unite during the yoga
posture, shavasana (corpse pose).
When she was put in my arms I cried so uncontrollably that others in the
airport thought the baby had died. And the bonding continued. This
despite her not sleeping through the night reliably until she was seven,
despite not opening her eyes the first month home except for two minutes
at the start of a feeding, despite eating the caloric equivalent of 15
pizzas for an adult every three hours for months, despite my being so
frantic, sleep deprived, and overwhelmed that I thought I had lost my
mind. We just kept getting closer.
When she became verbal, the bonding increased exponentially. At age two
she remembered having lain in the hospital, "Waiting for you to come get
me. Why you not come get me?" At age six she asked, "Do you ever feel
like we knew each other before I was born? Because I do." I did...I had
felt that from age eight. I did not have this feeling about either of
the babies I miscarried.
Now she is nine, ready to have her own apartment, her own car, her own
life on the one hand, and still not ready to sleep on her own all the
time. Everything wrong in her life is my fault (normal for this age) and
she wants to spend quality time with me at least 4-5 hours each day. She
tried the "you're not my REAL mother" line once in a grocery store and
was evidently surprised by my response, "Well, there are a lot of women
in this store. See if one of them is your real mom" because she's never
tried that line since. Today, when angry at me over something trivial,
she tried, "You don't like me because I'm Black!" and my peals of
laughter were more convincing than any words could ever have been. (I'm
white with Native American heritage and she is half white, half black,
and there's some Native American mixed in as well."
The bonding between us was so intense that when she was nine months and
we were lying in the hammock, she kept wiggling and kicking me and I said
to her, "Stop kicking! You kicked enough when you were inside me" and
then realized what I'd said.
Giving birth to a child does not guarantee bonding. Check this out in
any grocery store or K-Mart. Bonding is the miracle of love that just
keeps on giving, and it happens when you want it to, because you care.
With preemies, everything can take longer. She was not comfortable being
touched and cuddled for most of her first year, but we did it. She hated
being touched in her sleep and would respond with either anger or terror
until about a year ago, but we did it. I just kept giving the stimuli
and reaching out, and listening to friends, therapist, relatives, and
anyone who reinforced my efforts. The night nanny I hired during her
first year so that I did not have to throw my career away due to sleep
deprivation, laughed when I expressed the worry that Elizabeth might not
think I was her mother. "Children ALWAYS know who their parents are!"
She was a grandmother of many. I figured she knew. She did.
So any time you want support and reinforcement about bonding, just ask me.
with caring,
Cendra [ken'dra] Lynn
cendra@falcon.ic.net