When my son came into the world, I found myself consumed with worries about his future. Like any parent, I fretted over the basics—was he getting enough nourishment, was he sleeping well, and should I let him cry it out or comfort him to sleep? However, my anxiety pushed me to contemplate much deeper issues. I worried about which kindergarten he would attend in five years and what would happen if I ever needed to reside in a nursing home without a sibling to support him. These are the thoughts that flooded my mind when he was merely six weeks old.
Ironically, I never anticipated that he might inherit my anxiety. Yet, here we are. When he was three, I noticed he struggled with falling asleep. By four, he clung to me and refused to leave my side during kids’ church. I rationalized these behaviors as typical childhood phases.
However, as he turned six, his reluctance to engage in activities he once enjoyed became more pronounced. He preferred to stay home, and nightmares plagued his sleep, making bedtime a dreaded event. Most recently, he developed an intense fear of scissors, which compelled me to seek professional help. After visiting his pediatrician, we received a confirmation: he was experiencing anxiety.
What astounded me was how closely his struggles mirrored my own. I empathized entirely with his feelings of wanting to stay home instead of attending a friend’s birthday party—an anxiety-induced meltdown echoed my own experience at 15. I recognized that same indecision etched on his face, a reflection of my past.
Lately, he has begun to express fears about death, a topic that often invades my thoughts, especially at bedtime. Do other parents experience these overwhelming fears when their children are trying to sleep? If so, I can relate to your struggles, as can my son.
Last night, he had another episode of indecision. I was preoccupied with an online course while my husband was putting him to bed. He wanted to come and say goodnight to me, but my husband, unaware of his desires, informed him I was busy. That upset him immensely. Realizing how much it meant to our son, my husband reassured him he could come say goodnight. Unfortunately, by then, the idea of doing something ‘wrong’ had already taken root, and no amount of reassurance could change his mind. He cried until his father diverted his attention with a bedtime story.
By the time I finished my class, my husband had filled me in on the events. I peeked into my son’s room, only to find him fast asleep. As I watched him, the reality of his lifelong struggles hit me hard. I shed a few tears, and then, as the emotions flooded over me, I cried even more.
At my age of 34, I have acquired various coping mechanisms. I’ve learned to challenge my anxious thoughts instead of succumbing to them. Instead of lamenting what my child has inherited from me, I took a moment to reflect on what I could be grateful for. Surprisingly, I compiled a commendable list.
Firstly, our shared experiences have forged a deep bond between us. No one understands his thought processes better than I do, and in time, he will be able to understand me in a way that no one else can. We openly discuss our feelings, which lays a foundation for a lifelong trusting relationship.
Secondly, I can advocate for him in ways that I never had when I was young. My mother was unaware of my anxiety until long after I had battled significant postpartum anxiety. I can’t fault her, as I didn’t recognize my struggles until then. Now, I can actively seek help for my son while he is still young.
Thirdly, our open conversations about anxiety extend beyond just the two of us; we include family members and his therapist in these discussions. This dialogue increases my awareness of my own mental processes and works to normalize what is often stigmatized. I hope that, with time, he won’t feel the same embarrassment that I occasionally do.
Lastly, his anxious thoughts are not the only legacy I’ve passed down. He is also a bright, creative, and empathetic child. It brings me great comfort to reflect on how much I cherish life, anxiety included. I find immense joy in my existence, and I hope he will too.
While I cannot erase his anxiety, I can support him through it. Ultimately, that is enough for me—even in those moments when my mind tries to convince me otherwise. I remind myself that both my son and I can navigate this journey together.
For more insights on managing anxiety and understanding the nuances of parenting, check out our other blog posts, such as those discussing at-home insemination kits and resources from Hopkins Medicine.
In summary, the shared experience of anxiety between a parent and child can create a unique bond that fosters understanding and advocacy. Through open dialogue and support, both can navigate the complexities of anxiety together, turning struggles into a foundation for resilience and connection.
Keyphrase: Understanding Anxiety in Parenting
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