Monday, February 4, 2013

The gene pool lottery

 
“Oh! She has your nose!”

« Oh! Elle a ton nez! »


Seeing your genes being passed on is fun when it’s curly hair, straight teeth and cute freckles, but less so when it’s stuff you have been struggling with all your life.


Constater la transmission de nos gènes est plaisant quand il s’agit de nos cheveux bouclés, de nos dents droites ou de nos jolies tâches de rousseur… mais pas mal moins quand il est question de choses avec lesquelles on s’est battu toute notre vie.




At the same time, it is very helpful in my personal acceptance process to see that my very healthily-fed daughters who live in a loving family with parents that are in a great relationship and has a low-stress, high-fun and joyful life suffers from the same ailments I do. 


En même temps, c’est très aidant dans mon processus d’acceptation personnelle de constater que ma fille qui se nourrit très sainement, qui vit dans une famille aimante avec des parents qui sont dans une belle relation, et qui profite d’une vie peu stressante, riche en plaisir et pleine de joie souffre des mêmes troubles de santé que moi.


 

From effort migraines to night-time anxiety and moodiness and perfectionism, one of my fairies seemed to have gotten the full package.


Des migraines d’effort à l’anxiété nocturne, en passant par les sautes d’humeur et le perfectionnisme, on dirait qu’une de mes fées a remporté le gros lot. 


Of course, we have to be careful of labeling our kids with our own stuff, but at this point, it would be more like putting our heads in the sand...


Bien entendu, il faut être prudent de ne pas étiqueter nos enfants avec nos propres difficultés, mais à ce stade-ci, ce serait plus se mettre la tête dans le sable.
 
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As I massage her head at night, in the same little dip at the corner of the eyebrow, I remember my mom doing the same with me, almost every night, well into my teenage years. It was a great way to connect and she had amazing fingers that alleviated the pain. As my daughter calls me into her room because she cannot fall asleep, I remember the little girl I was, calling on my dad every 5 minutes, watching the big red square numbers on the digital clock… Of couse, she can get up, do something else or join us in bed, but I can see more and more that our simple presence is not always enough to comfort her back to sleep. And I remember so very well... and how I wish I could make that disappear for her. But I don’t have that power. God, I don’t even have a natural alternative to suggest her… After years of trying and searching, I am myself still struggling with migraines and taking medication for anxiety… I mean, we can walk the melatonine, chamomile tincture, Bach flower route (and we already do, without sucess so far, as well as intolerance testing, energy work, chiro, osteo and much more)… It is frustrating and hard. As much as we’d like to sometimes, there is just no running away from our gene pool...



En massant sa tête le soir, dans le même petit creux au coin du sourcil, je me souviens de ma mère qui faisait la même chose pour moi, presque tous les soirs, pendant une bonne partie de mon adolescence. C’était un beau moment entre nous et elle avait des doigts de fées qui allégeaient la douleur. Quand ma fille m’appelle dans sa chambre le soir car elle n’arrive pas à s’endormir, je me souviens de la petite fille que j’étais, appelant mon père tous les 5 minutes, les yeux rivés sur les gros chiffres rouges carrés du cadran… Bien entendu, elle peut se lever, faire autre chose ou nous rejoindre dans le lit, mais je constate de plus en plus que notre simple présence ne suffit plus à la réconforter et à lui permettre de se rendormir. Et je me souviens trop bien… et j’aimerais tellement pouvoir lui éviter cela. Mais je n’ai pas ce pouvoir. Je n’ai même pas d’alternative naturelle à lui proposer… Après des années de recherche et d’essais, je me bats moi-même encore avec des migraines et je prends de la médication pour l’anxiété… On peut explorer la mélatonine, la teinture de camomille, les fleurs de Bach (et nous l’avons déjà fait, sans succès jusqu'ici, ainsi que les tests d’intolérance, le travail énergétique, la chiro, l’ostéo, et bien plus encore). C’est frustrant et difficile. Même si on aimerait bien parfois, c’est impossible de se sauver de notre génétique…




And as I watch her blissfully dive into the freezing cold sea, I am reminded of how alike and how very different we are. And always will be. My girl. Her own little self. Already.

Et tandis que je la regarde plonger en s’abandonnant dans la mer glacée, je songe à quel point nous sommes semblables mais différentes aussi. Et combien nous le serons toujours. Ma fille. Une petite femme à part entière. Déjà.

5 comments:

Joanna said...

curieuse de savoir... c est laquelle des 3??? mara?

Penny said...

I completely understand. One of my girls seemingly has inherited the worst of both of us. One thing that's good is it's made me confront myself, and I'm able to help her see, just a tiny little bit, that anything can be overcome, just a tiny little bit, every now and then. It makes the small successes that much sweeter, for both of us.

Catherine said...

Yes, Penny. It sure makes us confront ourselves and grow. And our girls see us struggle and strive and grow and we can only hope that they get something from our striving...

Anonymous said...

Hi Catherine, oh how I can so relate to your words...

When our little one was very little, it was rather unnerving and fascinating how when cuddling her in my arms, I felt I was facing myself. But she is now a nice mix of both of us and her own little self.

However, when she finds that what she does is not good enough, when I see her determination to find her own way rather than accept what she is presented with, or her inability to go to sleep because she can't let go, the child in me stirs.

Sometimes I feel that children can be sent to us to make us revisit past experiences, remind us how we have managed to find a way to move on or sometimes finally heal wounds.

So I hope that I will have the wisdom needed to find the words that reassure and support when I know that she will struggle. I have to trust her to find her own solutions.

Because as you say sometimes we just can't run away from our gene pool. We can only hope that they can take what they inherited and make it better!

Love to you all,
Nathalie

Catherine said...

Yes, this is so wise... Trusting her to find her own solutions... I have to remember that, Nathalie. Thank you for that!