I realized I have a superpower

I took our screaming baby from Brian, scratching my head.

As far as I could tell, the only areas I had Brian beat in the parenting department were milk production and the uncanny ability to hear Eloise waking up in the middle of the night. (Brian can sleep through anything.) The weird thing is that, since Eloise is eating from a bottle, that first item shouldn’t really hold much importance to her.

I mean, if I were a baby, I definitely wouldn’t pick me between the two of us. I’m often impatient, my attention is often divided, and my temper is often much shorter than I’d like it to be. Plus, I’m not nearly as much fun as Brian.

Because, for real, Brian is nearly a saint.

Which is why the fact that Eloise often screams loudly in protest when Brian tries to feed her just is so confusing.

Before Eloise was born, I was fully prepared for our baby to prefer her dad over me — and rightly so. I knew it would emotionally sting to be second best, but I’d already accepted it. With me, with the kitty, and now with Eloise, Brian is always present, always kind, always gentle, and always patient — words you could use to describe me occasionally, but definitely not all the time.

So it’s been a real puzzle to Brian and I how he’s so thoroughly won her heart in giggles department, yet still absolutely insists that I feed her through the bottle.

Why in the world would Eloise prefer me, at least in feeding? Is there something special about me I’m just not noticing?

So it got me thinking.

I must have a parent superpower. Something maybe I haven’t noticed but is obvious to others or, at least, to Eloise. (Or maybe it’s just the fact that I was the only one feeding her for at least 2 months and she got used to that. But we’ll ignore that idea for the moment.)

Maybe this is the hopeful American in me talking, but there has to be something about me, about my parenting, that’s special. Something about each one of us, whether we’ve been parents or not, that only we can offer.

So I tried an exercise.

I sat down and imagined I was an outsider observing my life. I tried to put myself in their shoes and figure out what would they say Mallory’s “parenting superpower” is.

And, you know what? It was harder than I expected.

After a few minutes, all I could come up with is the fact that I’m extra stubborn. If I’ve got a goal I think is important, I can be singularly focused on making it happen no matter what it takes. Like, being on these ridiculous diets for over 5 months just in the hope that I could help resolve some of Eloise’s painful reflux without just treating her symptoms with medications. Most normal humans would have, rightly, given up by now. (And I still wonder if we’ve made the right decision.)

But I wasn’t sure that being stubborn was exactly a superpower. It seemed more like a “Mallory software bug” that I’ve come to package as a “Mallory software feature” over the years.

So I asked Brian what he thought my superpower was.

His answer surprised me.

Getting help.

I thought about it for a moment.

He was right. Early on in our journey, while Eloise was still in the hospital, I felt the urgent need to bring others on the journey with us. (Like those of you reading now.) All I could think is that telling our stories was the best way forward — people would read the details of our lives, notice obvious stuff we were missing, and pass on their wisdom, their connections, or even their prayers.

Brian went on to mention that he would have never thought to start documenting our struggles, especially for the whole world to see.

As I sat there, thinking about that, I realized it was true — we would be far worse off without me reaching out from the start.

I did that. Not Brian. I helped get us to this place.

If I hadn’t started writing, we would have long ago accepted that Eloise had colic, I would have stopped pumping a month or two into the journey, Eloise would likely still be in extreme pain from her food sensitivities or to whatever formula she was on, we would be trying to do all of this on our own, we probably wouldn’t have connected with anyone in the community with her deletion, and we would both have had mental breakdowns. Not to mention the feelings of extreme loneliness that would have come with that isolation. Because most of the reason we are where we are today is because of the advice, the wisdom, the tangible help and, likely, the prayers, of those of you reading.

Suddenly, I felt almost proud.

I do have something to contribute. I have made a difference already. Just by knowing we desperately need help — and asking for it. Granted, that’s probably not the superpower Eloise is noticing when she prefers me over Brian for feeding, but it’s something.

But it’s not quite enough. I want more. Which is why I’m asking you for a favor.

If you managed to get this far, can you sit for a moment and imagine an outsider figuring out what your “parent superpower” is? And, then, can you write your superpower in the comments? Maybe it’s researching. Maybe it’s being sad with your little one when they are sad. Maybe it’s finding the best deals. Maybe it’s being especially restful and quiet. Maybe it’s your love of nature. Maybe it’s being able to function on coffee and little sleep.

Whatever it is, I have a feeling that, by reading one another’s “superpowers”, we will all begin to realize we have a lot more to offer than we thought.

I can’t wait to hear yours.

Hugs and stuff from this mama who wrote this on her phone while pumping at 4:30 this morning,

Mallory, Eloise, and Brian