I thought about it. And here's what I came up with.
Our first children usually teach us how to parent. Right? Unless you grew up in a village or tribe of some sort, or into a big, attached, extended family to parents who had grown up in big, attached, extended families, parenting (the way that baby humans have evolved to expect to be parented) is pretty foreign. I spent my first pregnancy reading reading reading, but mostly I was reading about pregnancy and birth and breastfeeding. I figured that parenting would be pretty simple since I was gonna love the crap out of that baby and follow my instincts.
Nate's early days of infancy were spent largely on the couch. I didn't know how to use a sling (or a wrap or a mei tai or a [insert your favorite baby carrier here]), and it was clear that he preferred my arms to a stroller. The Baby Bjorn-type carrier just seemed so big for his little body, so mostly I held him. And he was heavy, so mostly I just held him while sitting down. His view of the world was my loving face and the wall behind the couch. I thought my loving face was all he probably wanted/needed in those early days.
Maya's early days of infancy were much different, because I had a toddler in the house as well. I didn't just sit around and stare at her all day. I put her in the sling and went on with my life. While Nate completely shaped my life, Maya had to fit in. Can you imagine the pressure of having to shape someone's life completely? You enter the world after 9 months spent in a lovely floating world full of movement and muffled noise and stimulation, and all of the sudden everything is still and quiet and everyone is looking at you expectantly. Yikes. That vs. *emerging into* a world full of movement and muffled noise and life. Continuum.
After Maya was born, I read The Continuum Concept by Jean Liedloff, and it was all so clear. I had thought that I had done everything right for Nate and that he was "just one of those fussier babies by nature", but reminiscing on his early days made very clear the point that he had had to go through a huge shift when he was born, from a life of stimulation to, most probably, boredom and yearning for stimulation. I really, truly hadn't given the human infant mind enough credit.
For those of you who aren't familiar with it, here is the Wikipedia article on the Continuum Concept:
The continuum concept is an idea relating to human development proposed by Jean Liedloff in her 1975 book The Continuum Concept. According to Liedloff, in order to achieve optimal physical, mental and emotional development, human beings—especially babies—require the kind of experience to which their species adapted during the long process of their evolution. For infants, these include such experiences as:
* The infant being placed immediately in the mother's arms at birth, and from then on carried constantly in arms or otherwise in contact with someone, usually the mother, and allowed to observe (or nurse, or sleep) while the carrier goes about his or her business—until the infant begins creeping, then crawling on his/her own impulse, usually at six to eight months;
* Co-sleeping in the parents' bed, in constant physical contact, until leaving of their own volition (often about two years);
* Breastfeeding "on cue"—nursing in response to the child's body's signals;
* Having caregivers immediately respond to body signals (squirming, crying, etc.), without judgment, displeasure, or invalidation of the child's needs, yet showing no undue concern nor making the child the constant center of attention;
* Sensing (and fulfilling) elders' expectations that he or she is innately social and cooperative and has strong self-preservation instincts, and that he or she is welcome and worthy.
Liedloff suggests that when certain evolutionary expectations are not met as infants and toddlers, compensation for these needs will be sought, by alternate means, throughout life—resulting in many forms of mental and social disorders.
When Nate was a toddler, he required constant attention and interaction. Maya could play alone happily. Nate's world was all about Nate, while Maya was compassionate and more willing to contribute to the good of the tribe (er, family). Of course there are lots of factors, and I'm definitely not one to draw black and white conclusions. But do I think their early days contributed to these facts of their personalities? Most definitely.
I just plain knew more by the time Maya was born. I knew by then that humans are clean animals that don't want to soil their own clothes (including diapers), so they send plenty of signals to let their caregivers know that they need to relieve themselves. By 4 months old, Maya very rarely (maybe once a month) pooped in a diaper because she made it abundantly clear when she needed to go, and I put her on a potty. Nate's signals, by contrast, were completely unrecognized and therefore ignored, and he became chronically constipated until he was almost 3 years old. Looking back, I can clearly recognize that he was very aware of and tuned into physical sensations (such as sitting, albeit for only very short periods, in his own feces), but he was sent a message that he should ignore those sensations. I just didn't know better at the time.
So. What would I recommend for expectant parents who want to avoid the First Child Neurosis? Read The Continuum Concept. Read up on Elimination Communication (EC) through websites like Diaper Free Baby. But most importantly, be ready to use a sling! Find a babywearing mentor so that you're completely confident, and your baby's safe pocket will have simply relocated from your womb to your pouch.
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