Can you do self-insemination at home ?
My daughter, Lily, is an active little girl brimming with energy. She often lacks spatial awareness and can be quite clumsy, leading to her frequent tumbles. Most of the time, she picks herself up and continues her play without a second thought. But there are moments when she genuinely hurts herself and needs comfort.
Today, she took a spill off the sofa, and it all happened so fast that I couldn’t catch her in time. She bumped her head and instantly burst into tears, clearly shaken by the fall. Although she can’t articulate all her feelings yet, I understood she was frightened. Instinctively, I scooped her up and held her close.
I allowed her to cry and express her feelings, and then I sang “You Are My Sunshine” to her. As she looked into my eyes, a smile started to break through her tears. We cuddled while watching some cartoons, and once she felt better, she hopped off my lap to play with her toys.
It was a precious moment, but as I provided for Lily in ways I never experienced as a child, I was reminded of my own past. Memories of similar incidents from my childhood flooded in. Like Lily, I was a clumsy child who often fell and expressed my pain openly. However, I didn’t receive the nurturing response I desperately needed.
“Just get up!”
“Don’t cry, or I’ll give you something to cry about.”
“You weren’t really hurt.”
I often faced ridicule for crying, labeled a “wimp,” a term used in my upbringing to denote someone weak in character. I can’t recall a single moment of comfort when I hurt myself. I tried to hold back my tears, but pain sometimes overwhelmed me, met only with disbelief and insults.
One day, my sister fell off a swing, and my dad rushed to comfort her without hesitation. I was just five at the time and couldn’t understand why she received tenderness that I never did. Confused, I started to cry, concluding that my dad didn’t love me.
When I asked him why he treated my sister differently, he seemed at a loss for words. My inquiry about his love for me prompted him to snap, telling me not to be silly. In tears, I turned to my mom, who laughed off my feelings, making me feel foolish. She suggested my dad simply tell me he loved me to stop my tears. I don’t remember if he did, but I do recall having to apologize for upsetting him.
This painful memory intruded on the beautiful moment with Lily. Other recollections followed suit. Once, when I was seven, I sprained my wrist and thought it was broken. My mother mocked my fears and dismissed my pain instead of seeking help. She merely fashioned a makeshift brace from an old sock and left it at that.
In time, I forgot my wrist wasn’t fully healed. I had a habit of jumping down the stairs, and one miscalculated leap led to another painful jolt. When I ran to my parents crying, I was met with laughter and mockery rather than comfort. They made jokes at my expense, completely disregarding my pain.
I shared these painful memories with my partner, who validated my feelings. He recognized the cruelty of my upbringing and reassured me that normal parents instinctively protect and comfort their children. As I watched Lily engrossed in her books, seemingly unfazed by her earlier incident, I realized that these memories, while painful, serve a purpose. They surface during moments of good parenting, reminding me that I am breaking the cycle.
These thoughts are mere echoes from the past, not my present reality. What matters now is that I can give all the love I wished for as a child to my little girl, who deserves it. I am committed to creating a nurturing environment for her, free from the traumas of my history. While I know I will make mistakes, Lily will never doubt my love. The trust in her big brown eyes reassures me that I am on the right path.
As she grows and creates her own memories, I hope she will reflect on our moments together without the shadows of past trauma. She will simply carry forward the loving example I strive to set for her.
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Summary:
The article explores a mother’s journey to provide her daughter with the nurturing she lacked during her own childhood. As she reflects on her past traumas, she recognizes the importance of breaking the cycle and creating a loving environment for her child. Despite painful memories surfacing during tender moments, she finds solace in the love and trust she can offer her daughter, ensuring a brighter future.