Learning to listen to myself

Three weeks ago we hired a nanny. Her name is Asina. She's a lovely woman, coming highly recommended by a teacher from the International School who has since returned to Canada. She looks after Eleanor three days a week for five hours each day. She takes Eleanor outside to look at the trees and flowers, to play in the grass and with the dogs. She brings her to all the other house staff to say good morning. She laughs when Eleanor smiles, or giggles. To us she seems great.

But for the past three weeks, when with her, Eleanor has CRIED nonstop. If there's one thing my mom has always said to me it's that I have good instincts and when my child behaves this way my instincts tell me that something is wrong. That something needs to be changed. That my child needs me. My instincts tell me to listen to myself.

Then I think about the fact that if it weren't for modern medicine Eleanor and/or I might not be here (breech, virtually no amniotic fluid) and if that's evolution trying to tell me anything maybe my instincts are wrong (if I wouldn't have survived childbirth, I wouldn't be able to follow my [bad] instincts). It's silly maybe...but maybe not.

When I think about this, I question myself.

Then I listen to the voices that are outside my head. They tell me that she's willful, and that if I give into this behavior now that I will be in trouble down the line; that I will instill in her a sense of power of which she will learn to take advantage. They tell me that it's normal for a child her age to experience separation anxiety and I should just "pat her on the head, say goodbye, and leave. She will cry, oh she will cry, but children must learn that they cannot have everything they want." They tell me that I need a nanny because that's what you do when you live in a foreign country and you can afford one. They tell me that I need to have a life outside my child, that I need to work, that I need to make money, that I need to be able to meet friends for lunch (okay, this one I actually agree with).  They tell me that I probably am just doing what's best for me, not what's best for her.

When I listen to them, I question myself.

There is probably some truth to all these statements, but trying to decipher how much is true and where that truth lies seems an impossible task for me. I feel that I am always doing what's best for her, that I always have her best interest at heart (my family's next) but maybe I have become so close to her that I can no longer see the true boundaries of our needs. Maybe I mistake my needs for hers. Maybe all those external voices are right.

I know that I am not the first mother to experience this, and I know that I won't be the last. Somehow that's not as comforting as I would hope. In the end, what I do know is true, is that learning to listen to myself is considerably harder than I thought it would be.
-kjd