Silent Saturday: Crying it Out Together

Um, I know that I'm a Know-it-All (Obviously)

The previous commenter struck a nerve and inspired an actual post out of me--well done, Dawnonymous, I've been looking for inspiration . . .

So yes, I am a know-it-all. Always have been. That's not to say I ACTUALLY think I know it all, or that anyone does. Furthermore, there are some things which I am totally ignorant about. Like, sports.

With this said, I love to learn--about some things, but definitely in general. When someone has a tidbit to offer about a topic of interest and it's something I didn't know, my ears perk right up . . . "Wow!" I say, "I didn't know that! How interesting!" And my brain squirrels it away and it stays there forever.

For instance, I most recently had this reaction when, in participating in a breast-feeding forum, someone mentioned that they had low supply with one child and oversupply with another. "VERY INTERESTING", I said, "I didn't know that it could change from baby to baby." So there, I didn't know everything, but now I do! Tada!

Even as a small child, I was fascinated by bits of information--the sky is blue because the angle of the sun refracts the larger spectrum off of the atmosphere, or learning how to write numbers in binary--something I came across, in 6th grade, while reading "The Ebola Virus", asked my math teacher about, and practiced until I mastered it . . .

No, I don't know everything. But I grew up surrounded by peers, who, by-and-large, knew less (about SOME THINGS, obviously). I was smart, I read a LOT, and when motivated, I was capable of learning fairly complex information.

Yet the point of left versus right wasn't something I grasped until my teen years, and I'm still not clear on the exact details? And when we started algebra--I didn't get why we used X--didn't X stand for a number? Why not use the number? That took several years for me to get past, too . . .

They say that someone with a high IQ is as far away from normal as someone with a low IQ. So while 100 is normal, someone with 140 IQ is as incapable of relating to society as someone with a 60 IQ, clinically mildly mentally impaired, someone that (likely) needs assisted living . . . I grew up having very true few peers, and noticed early on that I seemed to know more than other people--probably because I was reading on an 11th grade level in 5th grade.

This was a curse more than a blessing. Huge chunks of my pre-teen vocabulary were beyond the understanding of most of my classmates. I didn't know that they didn't understand me, and they didn't want to look stupid--so they jeered, and made fun, and called me awful names. And so I've always felt like an outsider, trying to figure out how to relate to people. As I got older, some things got easier--a lot more people caught up to me--I'm more sensitive about my audience, I have found many more wonderful friends and peers . . .

But some things aren't easier, don't change . . . some people will never like or understand me, and I have to just be okay with that.

I have witnessed firsthand that my spouting of information (esp in person) is directly related to how nervous I am. Apparently when I'm insecure I like to talk about things I know because my intelligence--no--not even that--information, facts--is something I feel confident in. Who am I without these facts? An awkward, dysfunctional, overly emotional person. Facts ground me.

And let's be real, folks, I have ADHD. It's part of my personality to impulsively speak, without thinking beforehand about what I was saying, or the consequences . . . I lost many friends as I grew up, and that might be one reason I am SO much more comfortable in the written form, because I can double-check and think deeply before hitting "send"/"submit"/or "publish"--I can tell you, I wish there was an edit button on real life.

And, yes, I have no formal training in breastfeeding or natural childbirth other than doing it. But I spend a LOT of time reading and researching. I think I might have done over 500 hours of reading to prepare for my own childbirth, and I've done at least that much on breastfeeding. And I HAVE been studying these things for YEARS. I would say during times I am online, I might easily spend a few hours daily consulting on "Dairy Queens"--Facebook breastfeeding support group--which adds up to 20+ hours a week. And, most recently, due to my participation, and the respect that many of the regular members now have for me, I was made a group administrator. (Proud inside smile feeling).

Honestly, I very much struggle with the fact that I have no official credentials, (thanks for making me feel even worse about that, dear Dawn), especially when I hear stories of people getting AWFUL and/or INSENSITIVE information from lactation consultants and pediatricians. I know that I can't be compared with them, the fact that they have years of schooling/credentials, which begs the question: how the hell aren't THEY better at THEIR jobs? Why does a ped tell a woman with a baby struggling to gain weight that she should night-wean her? How does a lactation consultant miss a tongue tie? Or be insensitive to a post-partum Mom? It makes me wish that I was someone official . . . I could be a good one, I think.

And in fact, I struggle with my self-identity, self-worth, self-efficacy, self-esteem, etc, just in general. Maybe, Dawnonymous, I enjoy the fact that I know a lot about breastfeeding/natural birth, because of the insecurity I feel about other parts of my life/personality/self.

Recently me and my Mom had a blow-out fight (everything is fine, now). Which, honestly, hasn't happened since I was a teenager. And it was for this very reason, she indicated that I was acting like a know it all.

You know what I said to her (many minutes in), in tears, through sobs . . .

"Do you think I like to be this way? Do you think I wouldn't change if I could? Everything you hate about me, I hate about me more. But you know? Other people love me. They say I am great. They accept me for who I am. I might be a know-it-all or talk too much, but everyone knows that. They know I am that way. But they still want to be around me, they still love me . . . so I am learning to love myself, too, even the parts that are flawed, and I wish you would, too."

So there you go, Dawnonymous, right from the horses' mouth--I agree with you. I am a know it all--or at the very least, I know I come off that way. But, get busy living or get busy dying: Accept me and be a reader or reject me and don't.

But I will not pretend to be less than I am. Nor will I pretend to be more than I am. I am a flawed, awful person. But hey, I might have some helpful info about breastfeeding, co-sleeping, or natural birth. The only thing that makes the awfulness bearable is when I hear from people that I helped them in some way.

I just hope that you find a way to be happy. If cutting me down is what does it for you, go for it, but I see you for what you are.

Abuse and Neglect

I'm a sensitive person in general--it is difficult to hear about others' problems because I picture how it must be, and feel bad. I guess I am highly empathetic--when someone around me is upset, I am also upset.

So stories of people abusing kids and babies have always haunted me. Literally, like I think of many of these stories over and over and feel bad and sometimes nauseous, over and over, and I never forget.

So it's always been bad, but now, since having James, it is ridiculous. My sister or someone was telling me that before unions and labor laws, lots of women, after having a baby, could not take any time off of work, and could not afford to get someone to watch the baby. So for 8, 10, 12 or more hours, the baby would be left alone while the Mom and Dad worked.

The thought of a tiny infant being completely alone for that long brings me to tears. I just picture their loneliness, the hunger gnawing at their stomachs--crying until they were too exhausted to cry, missing their Mom so much, losing hope, and finally, accepting that their needs were not important, or worse . . .

God it just kills me! And then there are the people who intentionally neglect or abuse--and I've heard before that profound neglect is worse than abuse, and since this picture came into my head of the lonely infant, I have to agree.

Since having James, I just CAN'T imagine HOW people could neglect or abuse their children. Let alone those mothers who freaking push their kids into a lake and stuff. I just don't get it. The thought of James even being hurt is tearful--losing him altogether is unimaginable, and it's a biological imperative. Every part of him is designed to make people, me and his Dad especially, want to care for him. Every part of me is designed to want to and be able to care for him . . .

Something must be very very wrong in people that could ignore these instincts--or maybe they are missing them altogether . . .

Now all these babies pass through my mind--in overstuffed orphanages where they just can't possibly get enough love or attention . . . in abusive home situations . . . I just want to rescue them all--it just seems so wrong that a tiny infant could be neglected--and yet I know it happens all the time all over the world. I just want to take care of all of them.

But I can't. All I can do it care for my baby. And since all these visions entered my mind, you can bet that I am holding him a little closer and loving him a little extra for all those babies that I can't hold.