broken

alasdair and I have been meeting with a cranial sacral therapist to help out with his poor latch. at our last meeting I asked about his tense body---the boy shoots his legs straight down and stiffens his entire core when he's nervous, upset ... sometimes I'm not sure why he does it. anyway, it makes for difficult changing sessions, impossible sling carrying and often awkward burping positions.
her response was interesting, and--after considering alasdair's new environment--quite obvious.
to go from a warm, confined space to an open environment is startling, and probably scary.
so, when he wakes up from a nap and appears to have had a nightmare and cries and tenses up, he's probably wondering what the hell is going on---where's my automatic food source? where's the warm fluid? cushy side-rails?
the therapist said he still considers us 'one'---and will continue to think of himself as being a part of one whole until he begins to roll over.
when a child rolls over, and over and over, and suddenly finds himself distanced from his mother, he begins to recognize that they (he and mom) are really two separate parts.
she said they'll often cry when they first begin to roll over and see you far away because they think they're broken.
geeze.
kind of sad.
anyway, I have to remind myself that he's in this new space--and how terrifying it must be sometimes.
I have to remind myself of that because mothering is difficult, and it takes a patient being to raise a child---
a loved, loving child.