The doctor placed my infant son on my chest and I breathed a sigh of relief. My husband trembled slightly as he cut the cord. Our son closed his eyes. He did not take a breath.
CPR started at 5:55 p.m.
As I waited to hear my baby cry, I was consumed by only one thought:
What have I done?
In acting on my decision to have children, had I made a deal with the devil?
Was my son destined for disability or death? Which would be worse?
Will my family ever forgive me for my selfishness?
Some of us are predisposed or socialized (or both!) to put everyone else first, and to “take responsibility” when things go wrong; to accept our role in the situation, step up and take action to right those wrongs. This can be great because we are the people who truly believe we can impact certain outcomes, and so we get on board quickly and work hard to achieve specified goals for the greater good.
But the downside of this way of thinking is that we can sometimes incorrectly attribute our own actions or inactions to certain negative outcomes. We can be *way* too hard on ourselves, and the wallowing can be devastatingly unproductive.
In the example above, while it is true that “but for” my decision to have a child, I would not have had a terrible birthing experience, the decision I made 7 years earlier did not *cause* my son to have encephalitis at birth. While these two things are related and both evoked the same sense of helplessness, they are not *causally* related.
This week, you may find yourself consumed in negative self-talk like:
“I wish I hadn’t spoken up in that meeting. That’s why I didn’t get to be on this new project team.”
“It’s my fault my coworker quit. I never should have shared that bad experience I had. Now the whole team will suffer undue pressure.”
“I don’t deserve success and happiness anyway because I really dropped the ball on that deal last month.”
“If only I had —— then I would not be having this very bad day.”
When you blame yourself for today’s unpleasant realities, check yourself. Is it true? Is your conduct THE cause? Are there no other factors causing or contributing to this terrible thing? Does beating yourself up about some other thing solve your current problem? Does it help at all? Does the cause even really matter?
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Postscript: My son spent a week in NICU with me by his side as much as possible. We then agreed to participate in a long-term research project on neonatal encephalitis outcomes. He underwent all manner of physical, cognitive, developmental and psychological testing over the next 4 years. The day he “graduated” from the study (pictured here), the parting words of the research team were a cheerful, “Bye-bye, Buddy!” to him, and then glancing at me, “Just watch for signs of autism cropping up the next few years.”
