I'm not saying Elliot is miserable all the time. Often he's simply content, and stares into space like he just mainlined some heroin. And when he's actively happy, he expresses himself in gurgles, snorts, and grunts; these sounds are problematically similar to his unhappy gurgles, snorts, and grunts.
Even when I know that he’s not upset; even when I’m 100% certain that he’s not hungry, or has a dirty diaper, or is cold; even when he just came off the boob, and I’ve checked his diaper, and thrown a blanket on him; and even then, these "happy" sounds are hard to handle.
We’ll be cooking dinner, and having a conversation about something (let’s say, for example, The History of Sexuality. It’s been a few months since Hannah and I tried to tackle it, but humor my ego will you?) So we’re chatting along, and Elliot will make a little snuffle. And for no logical reason I will find it incredibly difficult to carry on our conversation.
It’s not that he’s loud. The sounds themselves are no more intrusive than traffic noise. But for some reason I am unable to keep continue talking without thinking of myself as a bad parent. I must attend to him, and if I don't this thought will flash through my mind: “My child is crying, and I’m just standing here talking about Foucault. I’m a terrible human being.”
I guess I already knew that the sound of a baby crying triggers an automatic response in people. But it would appear that for me, any baby sound triggers that response. And my biological response is to freak out. Presumably in others the response is less maladaptive, or the human race would never have made it this far.
This is exactly my response as well. Actually, it still *is* my response (even though my baby is now over 30).
ReplyDeleteHowever, here's what I have been trying to remind myself with the E-man. It's from the Happiest Baby on the Block:
Your baby’s shrill cry is powerful enough to yank you out of bed or hoist you off the toilet with your pants down. (Not bad for a ten-pound weakling!) However, it is a mistake to think your baby is crying because he’s trying to call you for help. During the first few months, trying to get your attention is the furthest thing from your crying baby’s mind. In fact, the amazing truth is your baby has absolutely no idea he’s even sending you a message.
When you hear your two-week-old scream, you’re not getting a communication from him; rather you’re accidentally eavesdropping on his conversation…with himself.
His cries are like agitated complaints he’s muttering to himself, “Gosh, I’m hungry.” or “Boy, I’m cold.” Since you’re right next to him, you hear his grumbles.