Growing Families
When Babies with Teeth Nurse and Sixteen-Year-Olds Drive
Elizabeth E.
CT USA
From NEW BEGINNINGS, Vol. 18 No. 2, March-April 2001, p. 69
Imagine my surprise to find
I'm suddenly the shortest member of my family! My three breastfed babies
have disappeared, and in their place I find them young adults - one
out of college, one in college, and one still at home in high school.
My oldest is an artist and a teacher, living many miles from home, successfully
patching together an assortment of jobs to support himself while pursuing
the creative urges. Number two, my only daughter, is finishing up a
semester in London where she learned she can navigate the tubes, shop
for and cook a three-course dinner for four, and plan a spur-of-the-moment
weekend in Paris all on her own, without me to hold her hand. But it's
my youngest I want to talk about - my fifteen-year-old six-foot-tall
high school student. I may have to stand on tiptoes to kiss him now,
but he'll always be my baby - the last warm bundle to hold my nipple
so gently between his teeth as he paused from nursing to smile up at
me.
Recently, David's school
had a program for sophomores and their parents to prepare us for the
rapidly approaching moment when our teens will be driving - age 16 in
our community. The program was mandatory, making attendance required.
David didn't want to go and to tell the truth, neither did I, having
been through this twice before with no problems. But I believe in obeying
the rules. So that's how I found myself one Wednesday morning sitting
next to fidgety David in the auditorium, listening to a family educator
telling us that she'd brought us together to address our fears about
our children becoming drivers.
But wait. I don't belong
here. I'm not afraid. Really I trust David to drive as carefully as
any 16-year-old is able; I trust him not to drink and drive; I trust
him to obey the law (Haven't I taught him to obey rules?). I nursed
his big brother and sister before him, and my trust was rewarded with
safe driving and responsible, law-abiding behavior. Now I will trust
David. But first, I have to trust myself to know my child and to judge
what situations are or are not safe and appropriate for him, just as
I once trusted myself to know when he was ready for weaning, for potty
training, for nursery school, for riding a bike. If I don't think he's
ready for the responsibility of driving I won't take him for the test.
When I decide he's ready, and he passes the test, I'll gladly hand over
the keys, trusting him to live up to my expectations.
And that's when I started
thinking about breastfeeding - right there in the high school auditorium,
surrounded by blue-jeaned kids shifting restlessly in their seats, tapping
their oversized sneakers, girls flipping back their hair, boys hopefully
feeling for stubble on their chins. The metallic smell of teenage hormones
overpowered my memory of baby powder and freshly-washed bottoms and
sweet-smelling breast milk, but I knew that breastfeeding (and La Leche
League) had prepared me for this moment. Back when I trusted my baby
to tell me his needs, and I trusted myself to fulfill those needs (the
most basic needs for nourishment, for life), I was preparing for the
time when I'd have to trust him to grow up and trust myself to let him.
So when the speaker advised
the parents to hide the car keys so our new drivers wouldn't be tempted
to sneak away with the car and break all our rules, I patted David on
the knee and we got up and left. I knew I'd be giving David his own
set of car keys as soon as he passed the driving test, just as I'd done
for his older brother and sister. Don't get me wrong. I'm not planning
to close my eyes and set him free. I'm just trusting him to know that
along with the keys come rules and responsibilities. Ask permission
before you take the car. Tell me where you're going. Tell me what time
you'll be home. If I say come home sooner, do. If I say don't, don't.
Of course, no drinking, no driving under the influence, and no handing
those keys over to any of your friends. Most important, if you're ever
in trouble---even if you've broken any of the above rules - call me!
No matter how good a parent
you try to be, you never know how things will turn out. You might still
end up with children whose problems cause you heartache. I believe that
the reason I've been so richly rewarded as I've watched all three of
my children grow up is, at least in small part, because I've always
trusted them.
Oh, and by the way, remember
all those times I trusted three-year-old David to hold my nipple ever
so gently between his teeth while we nursed? Well, he did bite me once,
and I used a tip I'd learned from La Leche League. Just hug him in closer,
so he has to open his mouth for air. He never bit me again.
One more thing. I hope that
when that instructor has children of her own someday, she'll find her
way to breastfeeding and she'll discover - as did I - that we can learn
as much from our children as we can teach them.
Last updated November 13 2006 by njb.
Page last edited Sun Oct 14 09:30:31 UTC 2007.
