Is My Baby Disorganized Attached And My Actions Mean Something
What an interesting time today. Woke up with guilt about not being the person I'd be proud of down the line. Ate healthier breakfast of first having half a pear, then later when my baby woke up some oatmeal, healthy white wheat flour-banana-coconut oil scone, and almond milk-coffee. I let her play and squish the foods and explore sensory, as an article about activities to do with your toddler spoke of.
Last night was awful, as my daughter didn't go to sleep and was overtired, I was drained and tired, and I began to fear because she showed the signs of disorganized attachment. She didn't trust me, I was non-consistent with responding to her emotional needs... I was very overwhelmed by it all. Read articles by Psychology Today and another one, of how to detect the signs. The second article said that if the toddler goes to his Mom with his head turned away from her for safety, showing he doesn't fully trust her, this indicates some past form of abuse. And it said that kids become disassociated from abuse or neglect, so they idealize their mother for the good she does for them in order not to go into the trauma feelings of facing the bad. It freaked me out because that was what I did in my childhood, obviously, and the article said that usually if the parent has a past childhood of neglect or abuse, they cause the same to happen in their own parenting. Meaning, they can either abuse/ mistreat their child, or neglect their feelings because they feel helpless in being there for their child in his emotional needs, because they never got it themselves. I saw the reality of it happening before my eyes, and I was so distraught. I tried hugging my daughter but she pushed away and made nervous noises. I wondered if she saw me as helpless and unable to help her in her feelings. I scheduled an appointment with a new birth trauma therapist in my area, and hopefully she will be able to help us.
Anyway, I decided to visit my frail, emotionally-stunted father in the rehab center, where he lives after my parents' divorce. He loves ice cream, so I bought some frozen ice cream in order that he doesn't spill it all over his shirt like last time when I brought soft serve. I put on a fresh face and walked there with my daughter in the carrier. He was busy praying when I got there, and I caught a stony vibe from him and I started to regret going, thinking he had nothing out of seeing me. But I chatted about my life, and my birth family and he seemed interested enough. He even brought up a job idea for my husband for when we move to the new city, and I was impressed. He offered my daughter some ice-cream. He sat there stonily eating and seeming content. I dived in and asked him about how my mother grieved when her late mother died, and where I was in foster care because I was born around that time. He lied a few times that I was in their house since day 1, and about when she had a miscarriage- that same year- which I knew was not true because she was not pregnant when I was born or during my first months. But whatever. He said my mother didn't have to grieve so long, because she did for 5 weeks or so and that was why they could not take me in right away. He was so emotionless, as he listed the dates when the baby died and what her name was. He had wanted to mark her grave, and gave her a name. I felt awful about it. He told me about how when my grandmother died, from breast cancer, my mother visited her the minute she found out, by ACCIDENT that her mother was dying. She stayed with her for seven weeks until she died. No, my older sister who was 10 at the time did not see her grandmother or mother those entire weeks. It sounded very codependent to me. How my mother is always running to make people feel better, and is then devastated. I wondered for the hundredth time what this grandmother was really like. They all say she was the most generous soul. As my father told me then, that she used to give him money to put in the old maid's mailbox in order that she shouldn't see who gave it to spare her embarrassment.
The most amazing part, I guess, was how at the end of my visit, when my daughter got tired, I felt guilt in leaving but pushed myself to say I had to, and my father seemed to admire it. He watched me with a twinkle and asked me where I lived exactly. I told him, and then ran back twice to get a hat and then my phone that I lost there. I guess I was lost about being there and enmeshed. His voice broke as he said goodbye, and be well. As I rounded the hallway to the elevator, I heard him shout. I looked, and saw him holding up the hat that I had left a second time. I was shocked and thrilled that he had come all the way to give it to me, and did not know how to respond. I said thank you. This was what my mother meant when she defended him (and herself), saying that he had a loving side.
At home, I was careful to eat a healthy lunch and was looking forward to meeting a mentor tonight. I hope it goes well, and am anxious and excited to ask some pressing questions and see his face.
I am enthralled by my good fortune, and I hope I can appreciate it to believe in it that I deserve it. I noticed that the money in my bank account was much higher than it was two days ago, and I have no idea where it came from. Maybe my birth mother finally was able to wire the money she was talking about giving me. I was careful with money recently, buying cheapest fruits and vegetables and not over spending. I spilled coffee all over the table today but I took it well. Coffee is not so healthy anyway. I need to keep trying. To love myself and see my worth. Maybe one day I will see that I deserve it and that my good actions make a difference.
Last night was awful, as my daughter didn't go to sleep and was overtired, I was drained and tired, and I began to fear because she showed the signs of disorganized attachment. She didn't trust me, I was non-consistent with responding to her emotional needs... I was very overwhelmed by it all. Read articles by Psychology Today and another one, of how to detect the signs. The second article said that if the toddler goes to his Mom with his head turned away from her for safety, showing he doesn't fully trust her, this indicates some past form of abuse. And it said that kids become disassociated from abuse or neglect, so they idealize their mother for the good she does for them in order not to go into the trauma feelings of facing the bad. It freaked me out because that was what I did in my childhood, obviously, and the article said that usually if the parent has a past childhood of neglect or abuse, they cause the same to happen in their own parenting. Meaning, they can either abuse/ mistreat their child, or neglect their feelings because they feel helpless in being there for their child in his emotional needs, because they never got it themselves. I saw the reality of it happening before my eyes, and I was so distraught. I tried hugging my daughter but she pushed away and made nervous noises. I wondered if she saw me as helpless and unable to help her in her feelings. I scheduled an appointment with a new birth trauma therapist in my area, and hopefully she will be able to help us.
Anyway, I decided to visit my frail, emotionally-stunted father in the rehab center, where he lives after my parents' divorce. He loves ice cream, so I bought some frozen ice cream in order that he doesn't spill it all over his shirt like last time when I brought soft serve. I put on a fresh face and walked there with my daughter in the carrier. He was busy praying when I got there, and I caught a stony vibe from him and I started to regret going, thinking he had nothing out of seeing me. But I chatted about my life, and my birth family and he seemed interested enough. He even brought up a job idea for my husband for when we move to the new city, and I was impressed. He offered my daughter some ice-cream. He sat there stonily eating and seeming content. I dived in and asked him about how my mother grieved when her late mother died, and where I was in foster care because I was born around that time. He lied a few times that I was in their house since day 1, and about when she had a miscarriage- that same year- which I knew was not true because she was not pregnant when I was born or during my first months. But whatever. He said my mother didn't have to grieve so long, because she did for 5 weeks or so and that was why they could not take me in right away. He was so emotionless, as he listed the dates when the baby died and what her name was. He had wanted to mark her grave, and gave her a name. I felt awful about it. He told me about how when my grandmother died, from breast cancer, my mother visited her the minute she found out, by ACCIDENT that her mother was dying. She stayed with her for seven weeks until she died. No, my older sister who was 10 at the time did not see her grandmother or mother those entire weeks. It sounded very codependent to me. How my mother is always running to make people feel better, and is then devastated. I wondered for the hundredth time what this grandmother was really like. They all say she was the most generous soul. As my father told me then, that she used to give him money to put in the old maid's mailbox in order that she shouldn't see who gave it to spare her embarrassment.
The most amazing part, I guess, was how at the end of my visit, when my daughter got tired, I felt guilt in leaving but pushed myself to say I had to, and my father seemed to admire it. He watched me with a twinkle and asked me where I lived exactly. I told him, and then ran back twice to get a hat and then my phone that I lost there. I guess I was lost about being there and enmeshed. His voice broke as he said goodbye, and be well. As I rounded the hallway to the elevator, I heard him shout. I looked, and saw him holding up the hat that I had left a second time. I was shocked and thrilled that he had come all the way to give it to me, and did not know how to respond. I said thank you. This was what my mother meant when she defended him (and herself), saying that he had a loving side.
At home, I was careful to eat a healthy lunch and was looking forward to meeting a mentor tonight. I hope it goes well, and am anxious and excited to ask some pressing questions and see his face.
I am enthralled by my good fortune, and I hope I can appreciate it to believe in it that I deserve it. I noticed that the money in my bank account was much higher than it was two days ago, and I have no idea where it came from. Maybe my birth mother finally was able to wire the money she was talking about giving me. I was careful with money recently, buying cheapest fruits and vegetables and not over spending. I spilled coffee all over the table today but I took it well. Coffee is not so healthy anyway. I need to keep trying. To love myself and see my worth. Maybe one day I will see that I deserve it and that my good actions make a difference.
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