Parenthood is the path to the dark side

One of the most daunting feelings that are intimately associated with parenthood is fear. It evolves over time from the moment the pregnancy comes out positive, not only increasing in intensity, but also changing its quality. The first stage is (or at least it was in my case) self-doubt: this fear is particularly salient among first-time parents, who are never confident enough that they will be able to bring first the pregnancy and then the raising of the kid to a good end; but even repeating parents suffer from it, because there is always room to thing that they got lucky the first time and might not be able to pull it out a second time, or the fact that now they already have a child is a cause of concern because dealing with two children at the same time is a completely different matter.

The second stage of fear is mostly medical: once the advent of the child is reasonably processed and accepted all the concerns turn to the health status of the mother and later of the child. From providing the right amount and type of vitamins, to avoiding potentially contaminated foods, exercising in the right measure, overcoming the morning (or day-long) sickness, there are endless reasons to worry even if the big majority of them turn out to be unfounded. Once the beating heart starts to show in the ultrasound, the fear is pointed to the unborn baby: will it be properly formed? Is it gaining weight fast enough? Does it move as much as expected for its gestational age? Once again, almost every single worry is quickly dissipated, but it is not only natural but also helpful to care, because in a few cases the situation might be of actual concern and the sooner it is known, the better.

Photo: Marco Verch (CC BY 2.0)

As the pregnancy nears the end, the mother typically starts to grow more and more uncomfortable by the weight she carries and by the constant shifting and turning of the baby, and the fear is directed to the birth. The sole mention of the word conjures a mountain of horror stories of births that went terribly wrong, but also of the billions of humans that have been born in the history of humanity. But one way or another, that also comes to pass, the baby is finally born and that is when the great fear starts.

All along the pregnancy every single worry about the kid was significantly mitigated by the fact that it was inside the mother. There is always a minuscule risk that something could go wrong without the mother noticing it, but after seven or eight months she normally gets to know the baby well enough to be able to discount all the normal behaviors. For instance, I used to have very long fits of hiccups before I was born, and this initially startled my mother, who, in spite of being a doctor and a surgeon, had never actually heard from prenatal hiccups. But once the pediatrician identified it, my mother was not worried anymore and even started to enjoy the anecdote whenever it happened.

Once the baby is born, parents are instantly invested with an absolute and almost unbearable responsibility: they have to ensure that the child stays safe and grows adequately. Admittedly, they are the only ones in a position to reasonably try to meet this responsibility, but the sad fact is that there are many things that can go wrong leaving the parents very little possibility to react. One just have to browse the internet to read grueling accounts of this kind of events. And still, once the child is born, there is no way back: you are on the hook for his well-being at least until they become of age, but even once the legal bound is broken most parents are just unable to stop worrying and consider their children as adults with full decision capabilities.

I decided to quote the 1999 American movie "Star Wars: The Phantom Menace" in the title because the unavoidable link between parenthood and vicarious suffering: surprisingly (or perhaps not so much) it is much easier to accept our own suffering than the one of a person we love. Hard as it is to renounce something you like, it is much harder to tell your kid that they just cannot have a new bike for their birthday, because we are able to rationalize it, to argue with ourselves, we know the reasons for the denial and understand that, nice as it would be to have it, it could drive us into trouble (financial or otherwise). But how can you communicate this reasoning to a child? In fact, there are frequent stories of parents who work two and three jobs, going by without their daily coffee or much-needed new clothes only to avoid having to refuse their child something that is close to their heart.

As kids grow older they also develop an understanding of how the family stands and which requests are reasonable, so the fear of having to deny them something diminishes a bit, only to be replaced by a new one: the moment they star to explore the world the also start running into risk. A baby in its cot is almost entirely safe, but the moment they start to crawl they are automatically exposed to new dangers, like doors, drawers and corners. Walking expands the range of potential dangers, but the real fear comes the moment they start to roam about on their own. The route to and from school should be basically safe, but still there are a number of things that can go awry, and it can take the parents minutes to hours to realize that something has happened. As with the newborn child, only the repeated experience that things go well most of the time is able to appease our fears a bit.

My kids are growing fast and showing in general very good judgement, which is reassuring. They are not yet fully independent, but if my parents' attitude is any example, I know that I will not be able to fully let go of them once they are. My only hope is that we will manage to continue our current policy of letting them chose for themselves whenever it makes sense to give them the opportunity to grow and a sense of agency. Because if we fall pray to the fear, that can lead to angry responses, hateful remarks and, in the end, the dark side of controlling parenthood. Let us all look a our fears squarely in the face and try to overcome the illusion of control: there are a few things that we can tweak, but there are many more that we cannot. The trick lies in being able to tell the difference. Have a nice evening.