OT - how I love thee.
I went to occupational therapist this week. My baby had an extra chromosome picked up in gestation, and as a result we get some extra paediatric and physical support appointments.
They’re a treat for me. Our child hasn’t presented with significant delays thus far, so while I am not particularly concerned about her development, I get the support of experienced professionals in their space to reassure me of her progress and provide guidance on what we can do as carers to support it.
My lord something as a second time parent, I oh so need. I thought I’d be confident at this stage. Rather, I thought I was. But walking out of my first appointment with the OT one month prior, and I realised what gap this input filled for me. I realised, how badly I wanted that interest in her development and the words: “That’s rights. She’s good.”
You shouldn’t need external validation. And geez am I trying to unlearn years of people pleasing gendered expectations - which don’t you worry, I can deliver four-fold with an extra serve of kisses at the end.
But with that self-love and self-assuredness failing, damn oh damn, give me professional validation any day!
Let’s go for it. First! Babies, I hate to tell you, look simple but are flipping complex. They’re developing in hardcore ways. They won’t remember what you do with them - rather, it is them. It’s the frameworks for their neural pathways to lie on for the years to come.
If the doctors keep telling me that ‘early intervention’ with a chromosome abnormality can make all the difference to a child’s future learning, IQ and neurodivergence - then one can but deduce that the early engagement matters.
And while I’ve been told their brain is 90% grown by five years of age, I can’t see that. Nor can I see the impact of hundreds of interventions I’ve no doubt made to help forge this process. I talk emotions, and hear ‘pooh pooh fart’ back. Dear God, here’s hoping the impact I’ve made has worked.
But secondly! I am in every way a novelist. This is all new. I have studied political science, communication. I have studied yoga teaching more than I have raising a child. And yet, here I am. Years into responsibility and accountability for carrying, birthing, feeding and raising a child. Make that two. Kill me now.
For freely chosen work (aka mothering), I hear often that maternalist ideology has projected that this work is intuitive. Easy, simple, yes - but mostly, natural work. Work that doesn’t have to be trained or advised. Only judged when done wrong.
Then why, when the next appointment fell on my birthday, did I feel like that would be a treat? Why did I feel such gratitude and relief to have professionals take an interest in the raising of our baby, and provide the feedback on how we were tracking. The interest, the care, the validation, the being seen.
For what it’s worth. It felt good. And I know this space is complicated. That my worth can’t extend to my child’s behaviour or development. But when I have such a big impact on this as her current primary care giver, I want the pride and ability to see outcomes.
Yes complicated, but all I know is it felt good for my work to be seen. Not just out of altruism for loving this one, but out of pride of my own time, dedication and curation of other carers in her life.
Can we better measure the impact of those doing mothering work. See it. Take interest in it. Applaud it. Who? When? How? That I don’t know. All I know was, I craved it. And no doubt still do.
Other news.
This week we had maternal mental health week. One in five women. One in ten men in Australia - experience perinatal depression. Discussion here as to how much the hormonal and physiological rollercoaster that drives this, or the external cocktail of pressures that make this process so much more challenging for those responsible for babies / young children.
Gidget Foundation doing brilliant work in this space.
We also had international day of the midwife. They’re there in humanitarian crisis performing incredible work. They’re increasingly integrated into the medical system in developed countries to provide prenatal care alongside doctors and obstetricians. A knowledge previously sidelined and silenced some 100 years ago and now only relatively recently being embraced again and brought into the fold.
Women’s knowledge and incredible strength to be found this in profession. Once I am only beginning to fully understand the level of rebellion lying under its surface. Call the midwife indeed. And hold her high.
Happy M/others day. Something I’ve struggled with in the past but may be leaning into more each year. Scones and love to you all.
Emma 💋