Supersonic Child Detector

It's late in the evening.  Grown-up time has finally arrived.  You and your loved one have your snacks, the movie is on, the lights are dim, the surround is so good you feel like you're in a movie theater.

And then there's a tiny squeak. You drop your popcorn, spring off the couch, and in 2.2 seconds, you're in your child's room, just before he or she begins to cry.

How did you know just when to run? What causes this phenomenon?

It's your very own internal Supersonic Child Detector.

From canstockphoto.com

I've always heard about the mystical, magical "maternal instinct."  I suppose I always assumed this was something in a woman's DNA that became activated upon having a child. I figured that the physical bond between mother and baby automatically confers an unseen yet significant knowledge that enables the mother to instantly and perfectly respond to her infant in whatever way the situation demands.

Given that I have never given birth to a child, and in fact never thought I'd have one at all, I assumed that I didn't have a maternal bone in my body.

So one of the most surprising things about the journey of this last few years for me is that, amazingly enough, I do.

How, then, can this be explained?  Those of you who know me or have been following the blog for awhile know that I am not biologically related to Anna.  Yet, I am also her primary caregiver and have been for a long time.  How is it that I, her "mommy" but not her biological mom, can feel and put into practice a sort of "maternal instinct" of my own?

That brings me to the second most surprising thing, aside from learning that I am, in fact, somewhat maternal.  And that is that the "maternal instinct", if there truly is one, cannot be reduced to simply a mingling of DNA. Of course, not having experienced that biological bond myself, I don't know what it feels like and can only imagine. I do believe it is a strong connection.

But, I have learned that it's not what really defines the ability to be in tune with your child, to know and understand her on a deep, unspoken level. Rather, it's the day in, day out work that you do - the feedings, diaper changes, baths, soothing, singing, bedtime rituals, talking, reading, middle of the night feedings, taking him places - it's the actions of being a mother, rather than the title itself, that really make you a mom. It is the repeated, essential rhythm of everyday living and caring for a child that hones your own maternal skills and connection with your baby.

Learning to eat cheerios!

Now, in the majority of cases, it probably is the biological mother who is doing many of these tasks, so that feeds the myth of maternal instinct. I still feel that connection to my own mother even though I am 34 years old and live hundreds of miles away. When something goes wrong, I feel that impulse to call my mom. But what I know now is that it's not our shared DNA that caused this - it's the fact that she did the primary work of caring for me when I was a child.

Of course, it makes sense that if the same person who gave birth to the child is also doing all of these child-rearing things every day for several years, the biological connection easily goes hand in hand with the connection borne of work and caretaking and loving. Yet we tend to assume that the "maternal instinct" is the dominant force that creates this reality moreso than the work of being a mom.

But when the biological mother and the primary caregiver are different people....what happens?  Surprisingly (to me anyway), pretty much the same things happen.  The baby begins to trust and rely on you to meet his or her needs, just as you develop an awareness of what those needs are and what messages your baby sends to you about them.You learn, not by getting in touch with some internal baby care manual, but by doing.

Comforting a belly ache

At that age, your baby doesn't know what relational or legal title you hold in relation to him or her. All the baby knows on a primal level is that he or she goes to you for food, comfort, messy diapers, etc. Babies can probably sense a biological connection if there is one, but as long as those basic needs are met and the child feels secure, everything is going to be okay whether that tie is there or not.

This is why children who are adopted at birth don't know they're adopted until someone tells them....because their experience has been the same as every other child's experiences, and their bond with their parents is the same.  Their parents do the work of taking care of them.  Their parents hold their hands to cross the street.  Their parents soothe them and sing to them and rock them after nightmares.  Their parents hold them and kiss their boo-boos until they feel better.

Just caught a nap together!

Therein lies the bond.

I'm just as surprised by all of this as anyone else. In fact, someone else had to point out to me that mine was the primary bond with Anna simply because I did the majority of those caretaking things -  and that had somehow never occurred to me. But it makes perfect sense.

I did, of course, have help from Anna's biological mom and from Mama Heidi. I didn't do it all, and we have all contributed to Anna's care.  But, given the unusual circumstances of our family life at the time, by default I usually ended up putting Anna to bed, bathing her, playing with her, etc. And that's how I became her mom....not via DNA, not by achieving the title of "legal guardian," but by doing the work. And having the fun. And kissing the boo-boos. And putting all of my heart and soul and love into this beautiful, sweet child.

Whee!

The result is that I can hear her beginning to stir even when those little noises are probably only audible to the dog. I know what her various cries mean. I can tell what's wrong before she tells me - although her ability to tell me is definitely helpful!

I jokingly call it my internal Supersonic Child Detector.

I have developed the reflexes to be able to race to her when something is wrong, to understand the unspoken messages, to make sure she is okay.  Even though she is perfectly able of taking covers off of herself at night, sometimes I still run my hand gently over her face to make sure she's breathing. I just do it without thinking.

What's really remarkable is that our connection is such that it runs both ways. If I so much as get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, I inevitably hear a small thump as she slides out of bed, and then the sound of little footsteps running down the hall to find me. It's like she has a little "mom alert" microchip under her skin that activates as soon as I get up. And wherever I am, she will find me, guaranteed.

She is barely awake, but she knows I'm not there next to her. She's not satisfied until we climb back under the covers together. Anna knows when I roll over so that my "uckles" (knuckles) aren't there for her to pinch. She reaches and grabs for my arm so that I have to roll back over and, once she has my uckles within reach, she settles down again.

Got the 'uckles. Life is good.

What we lack in terms of biology we more than make up for with our intense bond. We bridge the DNA gap with the love and trust and unity that come from the rhythm of our life. I never feel like anything is lacking; instead, it is a richer experience than I ever thought was possible. And that is a beautiful thing.