study, gruelling written and oral exams, and the completion of three degrees, I landed my first job. I was ecstatic! As my start date approached, I focused on being prepared. I knew I had the book smarts to do this work, but I wanted to show up for that first job like nobody had ever shown up for a job before. I assembled what I thought to be a perfect “capable psychologist” wardrobe. I wrote out lists of questions that parents might ask so I could rehearse potential answers. I reviewed diagnostic texts, ensuring I had the information firmly encoded in my memory. I was ready. And then, three days before the job was to start, I was leaning over my little son when he jumped up unexpectedly. His very solid head hit mine, breaking my nose. I ended up greeting my very first clients with two black eyes and a swollen face. All the preparation in the world, and then—SLAM.
As it turns out, parenting is a bit like this. Most of us prepare for parenting, which is understandable since it’s arguably the most important job we’ll ever have and we want to get it right. We paint the baby’s room, buy a stroller and a crib, and practise changing diapers on other people’s babies. As our own baby’s appearance day draws near, we feel more or less ready for showtime.
Then your child arrives. You feel the earth move underneath you. Your axis tilts. You are in the midst of one of the most incredible psychological and emotional shifts a human being can experience: you are now a parent, responsible for another life in this world. Suddenly, there is a new North Star guiding your big choices and your smaller everyday decisions. And you are keenly aware that those choices and decisions will shape your child, a thought that is both exciting and scary. You thought you were prepared, and then—SLAM.
The hard-to-grasp truth is that parenting right from the start begins much earlier than the weeks and months before your baby is born. In fact, it begins long before you even decide to have a child. The act of parenting is shaped by how you see, interpret, and respond to the world around you. And this world view took shape in your mind long before you became an adult, let alone a parent.
Some people shift into parenthood with more ease than others, though most admit to struggles along the way. Despite all our careful prepping and planning, many of us find it hard to get our bearings. We may worry that we’ll never master this round-the-clock parenting gig, given that the job description changes almost daily. Just as we get the hang of the three-naps-a-day schedule, it’s suddenly time to deal with two naps and more frequent night wakings. Or maybe we’ve made it through the first wave of separation anxiety only to be confronted with the onset of toddler tantrums. Every time we think we’re in a groove, our child’s development changes, and we must keep grooving right along with them.
Through it all, our minds may be partially off-line. Not simply because of fatigue, but also because we may not understand the subconscious forces that are driving us. And yet, these forces—a series of beliefs buried so deep within our psyche that we may not even know they exist—colour all we perceive and do as parents.
You’ll certainly be aware of some of these beliefs, such as your views on education or household rules. But many more operate on a subconscious level. You may believe that you’re not good enough, for instance, or that you must always please others ahead of yourself, or that you are not worthy of receiving love and affection. You may believe that as a parent you should be all-powerful, or that your child should be happy just because you want them to be. Whatever your beliefs—and regardless of whether they are conscious or unconscious—you will feel their effect, especially in those yucky moments that all parents experience from time to time, when you’re overwhelmed and full of self-doubt and guilt.
Soon enough, you’ll discover an interesting thing about parenting: you will do things for your children that you might not do for yourself. I was a competitive figure skater until the age of sixteen. My mother spent many hours driving me to and from practices and competitions, sitting rinkside watching me, and sewing and adorning costumes. Now in her early seventies, she will tell you that she never spent a fraction of that time doing what she should have done for herself—activities such as exercising, seeing her friends, and making time for her own hobbies. Why would she forego her life for mine? Because she believed, as many parents do, that self-sacrifice is what it means to be a “good” parent. We say and do all sorts of things as parents, some of which we love, some of which we hate, and much of which we are barely aware of and would struggle to explain.
You may find that being a parent can also stir up challenging emotions and experiences. For example, what if you were the kind of organized, methodical, and logical person who always kept a tidy home and prided yourself on your same-day email turnaround? Then one morning you realize you haven’t showered in three days, you are still carrying your baby weight, your house is caked in dirt, the sink is full of unwashed dishes, you have mountains of laundry to do, and growing piles of paperwork are demanding your attention. “What happened to me?” you think. “I’m a mess!” Bam! You are seven years old again, feeling inadequate compared to your older, more capable sibling, and worried that the world is laughing at your incompetence.
What if I told you that in the midst of the laundry, the dirty dishes, and the self-doubt, you would be hit squarely on the nose by the opportunity of a lifetime? That part of doing right by your child includes seizing the significant opportunity that parenting provides for your own growth? Would you take that on at full throttle knowing that it would serve not only you but also your child? This is the powerful gift that comes with being a parent. Parenting is a transformative wake-up call that beckons us to fully emerge into the human beings we were meant to become.
You know that feeling you get when you’re sleeping peacefully and then your alarm sounds and shocks you into alertness? Well, when you’re blissfully unaware of the growing up that you may still need to do, becoming a parent is exactly like that—jarring and unpleasant. But don’t let that deter you. Time to wake up, sleepyhead! Your full and beautiful life as a parent is waiting for you.
The experiences shared by the many parents I have worked with in my clinical practice over almost twenty years, as well as my own experiences as a mom, have shown me that parenthood is full of joyful moments. There’s the wonder of watching your child grow right in front of you—first smiles, first steps, first words. The feeling of warmth that fills you when a smile breaks out on her sweet little face as you walk through the door. The squishy tenderness of his pudgy little hand reaching absent-mindedly for yours. It isn’t all work.
But you will definitely have moments—maybe many of them—that will smack you in the face. I’m not talking here about feeling angst-ridden over the colour of your baby’s poop, or sleep schedule, or an older sibling’s acceptance, or whether it’s time for solid food. That would be too easy. What I’m talking about are the moments of doubt or unease that settle over you, a feeling that you just can’t put your finger on, regardless of whether you are a new or experienced parent. It might be the pervasive sense that something is wrong, or a niggling feeling of depression that won’t lift. It might be the awareness that you are constantly in conflict with others (your partner, family, or friends) over parenting issues. Maybe you find yourself acting in ways that you don’t want to act. And maybe you come to the uncomfortable realization that “I am turning into my mother/father,” or “I don’t want to be a yelly-shouty parent, so why do I behave like this,” or “I swore I would have it together and now I feel as if I am falling apart.”
The good news is that you don’t have to wait for these feelings of doubt and unease to blindside you before addressing and alleviating them. Every person who becomes a parent will experience some version of a wake-up call. It’s universal—which means you can expect it and prepare for it. This knowledge is your power. It is the invitation to step into a fuller understanding of what you and your child need in order to grow in the best way. This invitation is exactly why I have written this book. When you understand the powerful impact of the parent-child relationship on growth and development, and your own needs for rest and awareness, you will be more attuned to how to care for yourself and your child. And this, in turn, allows you to avoid being swallowed
