Right Mothering

An article from the Asia Times from 2 December affirms my commitment to my daughter’s musical education.  We learn both piano and violin, and they do require a tremendous commitment, both financially and time-wise.  Practicing can at times be a struggle (mostly after even the shortest of vacations), but can also be a pleasure.  When both parents work, it is especially difficult just to find the time and energy.  But the discipline that practicing develops is invaluable.  And while school seems to challenge our daughter very little, learning the violin and piano challenge her every single day.  And when she masters a song or movement, she experiences the pleasure of making music.

I read Glenn Reynolds’ Instapundit throughout each workday, but was disappointed yesterday to read his posting on vaccinations.  He refers to a recent article in his local newspaper and includes a link to an earlier article of his that was published in August.

My perspective on vaccination was shaped by the time I lived in Western Europe, which included the birth and first three years of my daughter’s life.  I gave birth in a free-standing birth house, and a family doctor performed the first check-up in our home the morning after.  He was one of only two doctors who would support the mission of the birthhouse in this way.  We were very lucky that he then took our daughter as a patient.  He practiced homeopathy in addition to conventional medicine.  We trusted him and his recommendations regarding vaccination.

In this western European country, there are no vaccination requirements, ever.  The choice to vaccinate is considered a sacred right of the parents.  Our doctor recommended selective vaccination, beginning at 6 months.  We vaccinated only against those diseases that have are likely to have severe effects – polio, diphtheria, and tetanus.  He also recommended we consider vaccination against rubella when our daughter was of childbearing age.

When we were planning our relocation to the United States, and I began to explore pre-school options, I was shocked by the long list of required vaccinations.  We went to the doctor to ask him to administer the necessary vaccines, or at least one or two, accompanied with his usual homeopathic vaccine drainage.  He refused.  He considered the administration of the remaining vaccines a violation of the Hippocratic oath.

Now, I do not wish to get into details of the pros and cons of each vaccine; I lack the expertise.  But I can share this perspective.  Although some of the vaccinations and their requirement have clear merit, wouldn’t most libertarians be inclined to question the government’s wisdom in its requirement of so many vaccines?  Chicken pox, among them?  Especially when we know that another fully advanced Western European society takes the absolute opposite position and that good doctors there agree with only three of the vaccines on the ever-expanding list here?

Both the Knoxville News article and Reynolds’ piece appeal to the greater good, without appreciating the cost to certain individuals.

“Public health officials argue that getting children vaccinated is for a greater good because it protects those who can’t be vaccinated – young babies, people with immune-system problems and children undergoing chemotherapy, to name some – as well as the 5 percent to 15 percent of the population for whom the vaccines don’t work.”

“But when people decide to forgo vaccination, they threaten the entire system. They increase their own risk and the risk of those in the community, including babies too young to be vaccinated and people with immune systems impaired by disease or chemotherapy.”

I do not mean to be callous, and I certainly don’t want to tempt fate, but knowing that I breastfeed my children well into toddler hood and thereby confer extended immunity on them and based on the excellent lifelong good health of most everyone in both of our families, I do hesitate to put my children at risk for, in my mind, still to be disproved ailments associated with vaccines.  From that vantage point, I consider the possible side effects of vaccines more worrisome than the diseases against which they inoculate, at least in the case of chicken pox, whooping cough, measles, and hepatitis B.  In this instance, I definitely doubt the wisdom of government.

Having been pregnant with my daughter and then given birth to her in a French-speaking country, I had the tremendous blessing of a haptonomic preparation for the birth. I credit haptonomy with the speed of my daughter’s birth (2 hours of noticeable labor), her high alertness at the birth (and ever since), and her continuing acute awareness of the space around her. She came into the world with confidence and surety. While I delivered the placenta, she and my husband looked deeply into eachother’s eyes, and the intensity of her gaze has never diminished. And she has always known her physical limitations and she never bumps into other people or objects (which you know, if you spend any time around small children, is rare). Needless to say, we are repeating this preparation with the child currently in my womb.

What is this haptonomy that brings about such self-awareness? Well, this is not so easy to answer. Haptonomy was founded by Frans Veldman and is now taught exclusively at the institute that he founded in the south of France. The website of this institute presents some introductory material, but, be forewarned, it elucidates little. If you understand spoken French, then I highly recommend the following three videos (1, 2, 3), the three parts of a special broadcast on French television. Even if you don’t understand what the lecturer, Catherine Dolto, says, if you are patient, you will see some amazing photographs and videos of haptonomy in practice.

The word haptonomy derives from the Greek and means the science of touch. As a prenatal accompaniment, it aims to develop an affective relationship between the father and the baby and to strengthen the mother-father-baby triad. Through touching the mother and talking to the baby, the father communicates with the baby, and the baby responds.

Now, this is not the normal putting-the-hands-on-the-belly in which most parents engage. First, the mother must be present in her base. Second, the father must extend beyond his own flesh and feel beyond the point of contact when touching the mother. Third, the father must know where and how to touch. A philosophy of human relating supports each haptonomic motion.

In more practical terms, every day we make time as a family to practice haptonomy with the baby. I recline on our bed. My husband straddles my legs and places his hands on my belly. He then greets the baby, identifies himself, and then calls the baby to one side of the womb and then to the other. And the baby moves. My husband then rocks me and the baby with movements that are too complex to describe. Then with a simple concluding motion, he completely realigns my spine and creates more space in the womb for the baby.

Haptonomy has made me fervently pro-life. Who could kill a being capable of responding so meaningfully to our overtures? I also now view ultrasounds as an aggressive intrusion into the life of my unborn child.

Perhaps you wonder where to find a practionner of haptonomy. As far as I know, nowhere. We traveled to French-speaking Canada to refresh our knowledge.  I write about it here in the hopes of creating a demand.

A couple of weekends ago, my daughter had a violin recital. She began learning violin, Suzuki method, just over one year ago and has almost finished Volume 1. If you are not familiar with Suzuki, then the level of the pieces that children can master so quickly would probably amaze you.

But as my daughter played, my cheeks blushed warmly; she butchered the song, and there was nothing I could do. She had been playing it so well the previous week and at her lesson two days earlier. But, at the recital, with the look of a deer caught in the headlights, she jumbled passages and even notes. And yet, she tenaciously executed both repeats.

I can easily understand her performance – a room packed full of strangers looking only at her and not more than a couple of feet between her and the front row. I feel terrible about my pink face and have long since quashed my initial impulse to judge. She hadn’t even noticed, or at least wouldn’t admit, that her performance wasn’t up to par.

My thoughts turned to questions of why I am torturing my daughter with the violin. She memorizes the songs quickly and executes them precisely, at least for a five-year old, but they never sounds all that great. At the recitals, one quickly appreciates that it must take many years of study for violin students to make music that is remotely pleasing to the ears. But at this recital, a little boy played Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and it sounded good. His violin was quite large for his size, and perhaps that made all the difference, but it made me wonder why my daughter didn’t produce nearly as good a sound with her violin.

The violin is a challenge. My daughter also studies the piano, and it always sounds good. The violin demands coordination of multiple movements. The child must place fingers on the left hand must at precise spots on the finger board with sufficient pressure and at the same time place the bow equidistant from the bridge and the end of the finger board, move it parallel to both with, again, a precise amount of pressure. For a perfectionist, such as my daughter is, mastery comes only after much frustration.

The Suzuki method also poses its challenges. Each song is substantially more difficult than the previous; progress is unrelenting. Plus, daily practice is essential, at least for us. If we take even one day off, we notice it the next day.

After some reflection, I feel right persevering. Oddly, my daughter has enjoyed practicing these first two weeks after the recital. Second, I want her to learn to manage her stage fright. How better than to undergo this twice-yearly ritual. Third, even if, or especially if, she is ultimately not a very talented violinist, I appreciate the challenge the violin presents to her perfectionism. My daughter excels at most everything she tries, but I want her also to enjoy doing things at which she does not excel. This seems a good way for her to learn some humility and also how to temper her perfectionism, when needed.

My first piece of advice is a bit unconventional and perhaps not very conservative: conceive the child at the height of passion, by which I mean, do not wait so long that intimate relations have lost their original fire.  Of course, I do not advocate not having children for those who have passed this moment in a relationship.  But for those who have not passed it, I would urge them not to delay.

Such advice may seem foolhardy.  But in truth, although I do not have the statistics to back me up, I would doubt that the length of a relationship prior to having children has any bearing on the rate of divorce after having children.  Some would argue that a relationship needs a foundation before adding children.  This sounds reasonable, but based on our own experience, I know that it is absolutely not necessary.

My husband and I conceived our daughter very early in our relationship, at the height of our passion.  And it was a blessing for the following two reasons.  First, every time I look at our daughter – and I mean really look at her, to admire her – her face reminds me of our passion.  Her being, as an embodiment of our passion, can even snap me out of moments of frustration, impatience, or anger.

And I still believe in that passion because it has never had the chance to diminish.  Pregnancy and breastfeeding hit the pause button on our passion, but as soon as our daughter weaned herself, we hit play, and our passion picked up right where we had left off. We had a little less time and energy, but the same passion was there when we conceived our second child, the one I now bear.

And now, pregnant for the second time, the passion is not only a memory, but a hope for the future.  I look at my husband with the same adoration and longing as when we first fell in love.  Our physical chemistry is such that perhaps it willl never diminish, and perhaps we could have easily waited. But I know, from previous relationships and the experiences of others, that in most relationships, passion wanes.

Feminism and the wide-spread availability of birth control attempt to his sever this link between physical passion and reproduction. I certainly had no real notion of this link until I became so overcome by passion that conceiving a child seemed the most natural outcome.  But now I speak very openly to my daughter about how babies are conceived, or at least how they should be conceived and how physical intimacy should be experienced. Bambi (2-Disc Special Platinum Edition)
has a fantastic word and example for children to understand the connection between sex and reproduction – twitterpation.  Watch the movie if you want to know what I mean and need a good point of reference when talking with your children.

As a mother, I subscribe to the school of Attachment or Natural Parenting.  I read Mothering Magazine.  In fact, it is the only print magazine that I read.  But I am also politically conservative, which is rare among attachment parents and Mothering readers. As I post to this blog, I will develop my personal parenting philosophy.  But most basically, I believe that the first 3 years and 9 months (starting from conception) matter most when raising a child.  It is imperative to do right by the child right then and less so as the years go on.