Every now and again, I am reminded to listen to my body. The body is a compass for alignment. When things are misaligned, my body shuts down. Gives up. Sends warning signs. Stops me, quite literally. Growing up, I powered through my body’s resistance. I was taught that the mind was stronger than the body. My parents forced me to go to school even when I was sick. I could never miss a day. “You can do anything you put your mind to.”
And they’re right. The mind can overcome many things. It can trick us into thinking we are doing well, on the right path, or whatever reality we wish to believe. But the mind doesn’t really know. The mind is fickle. It can convince us of either argument. It can play devil’s advocate. Whether that it is vying for is true is anyone’s tell. But the body KNOWS. And it behooves anyone to listen to it when it speaks. Remember, the mind is developed over one’s lifetime, but the body is evolved through all of time.
Last week, we started Casey at Montessori. We were really looking forward to it. It was going to be the perfect part-time solution for taking care of our eldest while the grandparents focused on baby Sadie. But something did not feel right. Casey did fabulously on the visits to the school. He gravitated towards the activities on the shelfand wanted to play on the playground on the lake. He pointed at the ducks and boats, and was told the train goes by. We picked a classroom with a bird named Bluey who was allowed out of the cage. But on the days leading up to his last site visit, I had a very bad feeling that I couldn’t place. It was a deep sadness, which is normal for all moms, but also a feeling of unrest.
On the first day, I dropped him off. He rushed to the playground and didn’t even look back. I tried to say bye and he kept running away to look at all the things. After the third attempt, I was told it would be best to sneak away. I said a final goodbye which fell on deaf ears, and left for work. But as his mom, I knew, as would happen during story time at the library or at the playground, once the excitement died down, Casey would look up, scan the room and say “Mommy?” Except this time, for the first time ever, I wouldn’t be there. And as my brave little boy would, he held down his sadness until dad came to pick him up. When dad asked if he was ready to go home, he burst out crying.
On the second day, he clung to dad’s legs. But when the teacher asked him if he wanted to see the duckies, he ran to the fence by the lake and dad was ushered out. This was my day to pick him up from school. Even before I entered the door, I heard him scream crying. And when I opened the door I was surprised to see him standing right in front of it, as if he had been trying to escape. They kept saying “im sorry Casey” and offered no explanation except to say he didnt want to put on his shoes. In between sobs, he kept repeating “Home. Go Home.” When dad asked about the duckies later that evening, Casey once again broke down crying.
On the third day, I dropped him off and it was not good. A lot of clutching and screaming, crying and begging. It hurt my heart to leave him. But I had work and couldn’t stay . The teachers reassured me that when I leave, he would be fine. They recommended I didn’t stay long, but my mother instinct was to never leave a child feeling abandoned. My mom picked him up that day and she said that when she arrived, he was scream crying and it looked like it had been happening for a long time. His eyes were red with his nose running. Hyperventilating, he kept repeating, “Go Home, Bye Bye School, All Done, No more school.” We took him to the ferris wheel that day and out to dinner.
And on Friday night, I got sick. That may seem like a negligible fact, but the truth is, I never get sick. My family has a history of autoimmune diseases that hardly results in us getting sick. But if I have learned anything about myself in my first thirty years, it is that the body keeps score. And when something in my life is misaligned, I will always fall ill. Like an alarm, my sicknesses are signs that something is not right.
I was always sick before a test. I was sick a lot during dental school. I called out almost every month of my first year of work when my life wasn’t what I envisioned. It happened in the months before I found baking. And it happened when the world shut down; until I quit a job that I hated. Between that liberating moment and when I had kids, I built the life I wanted – an ideal life with an ideal schedule. I never took on anything I wasn’t 100% yes. And for a glorious 3 years, I never got sick. Not once.
I wouldn’t call it coincidence. I have learned to use my body my compass. My body guides me to do what is aligned. And getting sick is the telling sign that something must change. Ever since having Casey, trying times with parenthood has led to sickness. When he hit his head on Mother’s Day, when he had ITP and when our nanny left, I got sick. Some say this is a normal stress response. After all, isn’t stress a response to a lack of homeostasis?
Over the weekend, I tried to prep him that we would return to school on Tuesday. He kept repeating “No. No more school. Home. Upstairs. Finished. All Done.” I had taken the entire week off because my husband was out of town. I already felt like it wasn’t a good idea to leave him. But under the urgings of multiple people to continue giving it a try, I brought him to school, where once again, he cried until we were separated. I lingered outside for an hour after drop off, and even asked if I should pick him up before naptime after lunch. They said he was doing well and to try to get through lunch time. When I picked him up, he was the only one awake. Everyone else was napping. And the minute he saw me, he started crying to the point where we had to exit through another classroom in order not to wake the kids.
When I asked him if he wanted to go to school, he would cry.
When I asked him if he wanted to go to the playground, he would say no.
When I told him we will play in the sand, he said “Mommy stay!!”
Anytime I went to his sister’s room to put her to sleep, he melt down and throw his body onto the door.
Whereas before school, he had feelings of security around me, his insecurity from his hospitalizations resurfaced. All the hard work we put into rewiring the trauma from his ITP came undone.
The truth is, I know he will get over it. I know he will be fine. He is a strong boy, and the mind IS a powerful thing. He will get used to the feeling of being dropped off at school and know that at the end of the day, he will be picked up.
But there are other truths as well.
- I don’t believe in developing independence at this young of an age. The first 5 years are crucial to developing a foundation that they will subconsciously live by for the rest of their lives. And culturally, I was raised around community. Not only was my mom a stay at home mom, but we also had a nanny for each child and multiple aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents living with us. I attribute my ability to take risks, try new things, and have confidence while doing it to the fact that I know, no matter what, I will have my family to fall back on if I fail at life.
- I want him to know that his mom will not abandon him for something else, even if that something else is work. When I was pregnant with Casey, I shared with Mike that I don’t want to teach my kids that work is all there is. Or that it precedes the more important things in life. Upon reflection, everything about motherhood was once something that I wished for and could only dream about. Before Casey, I already had the job – and it wasn’t enough. Now that I’m a mom, I can’t waste the opportunity.
- He needs to know that he is listened to when he says he does not want to go to school. Even at this age, he is already trying to communicate with me. And if I ignore what he is saying, then why would he come to me with his problems as he ages?
- Autonomy is something I value. It is important that I value that in him, too. If he does not want to go to school, why should I force him? My needs and opinions shouldn’t supercede his if I truly value him equally to me. It’s not like I view school as the end-all-be-all. I just chose school because it was the cheaper, easier, part-time option that exposed him to other kids and school activities. Looking back on it, all the reasons are for me.
- And the final truth: I have needs of my own. And boundaries too. I want to keep working. I need time to myself – to refresh and realign. The child is not the king of the household. Never was. But neither am I.
So I had a talk with Casey this morning. He told me blankly he does not want to go to school. He wants to stay home. I told him honestly that if he stays home, he would have to help mommy and daddy around the house. And spend some time with the grandparents. I also told him that maybe in a year we can try again? This time, instead of doing three full days a week, we may start with three half days. “Okay,” was his response.
The Body Keeps Score by Bessel Van Der Kolk is a great book that I recommend for those who enjoyed this post.
