06/28/2026
When the Beginning Was Different
Finding Connection After a Difficult Start
Have you ever wondered what it feels like to arrive in this world?
Not from an adult's perspective.
But from a baby's.
Before there are words...
before there are memories...
before there is understanding...
there are experiences.
The warmth of being held.
The sound of a familiar voice.
The rhythm of a heartbeat.
The feeling of someone responding.
Perhaps our first understanding of the world isn't something we think.
Perhaps it's something we feel.
When a baby is born, we naturally pay attention to feeding, sleeping, weight, and milestones.
These things matter.
And yet I've come to believe that something quieter is happening alongside them.
A relationship is beginning.
Not all at once.
But one moment at a time.
A look.
A touch.
A cry answered.
A pause.
A breath.
Sometimes the beginning is different than anyone imagined.
Sometimes birth is calm and uncomplicated.
Sometimes it unfolds in ways no one expected.
An emergency delivery.
Time in the NICU.
Medical procedures.
Adoption.
A long separation.
Feeding challenges.
Hours of inconsolable crying.
These experiences don't tell us who a child will become.
But they do become part of the story that both you and your baby begin to carry together.
I've often thought that when a beginning is difficult, it's not only the baby's story that changes.
A parent is born that day too.
Sometimes into joy.
Sometimes into fear.
Sometimes into uncertainty.
Sometimes into a beginning neither of you ever imagined.
Many parents love their babies with every part of their being.....and still find themselves wondering why everything feels so hard.
Not because love is missing.
But because something has interrupted the feeling of ease between you and your baby.
Sometimes both parent and baby are trying so hard to find one another.....while each is carrying an experience the other cannot yet put into words.
Those moments have taught me something.
Perhaps the most helpful question isn't,
"What's wrong?"
Perhaps it's,
"I wonder what this experience has been like?"
That one question quietly changes everything.
It makes room for curiosity.
For compassion.
For understanding.
People sometimes ask what my work looks like.
With time, my answer has become much simpler.
I help parents gently make sense of experiences that may have felt confusing or overwhelming, both for themselves and their baby.
Not to search for something that's wrong.
But to discover what begins to make sense when we slow down and become curious.
One of the approaches I use is Brainspotting.
Although the name may sound unfamiliar, I think of it in a very simple way.
Brainspotting doesn't teach the nervous system what to do.
It creates the conditions for the nervous system to remember what it already knows how to do.
To settle.
To connect.
To feel safe enough to be present.
To return.
With babies, the work is always gentle and always includes the parent.
Not because I believe the baby needs fixing.
But because I believe relationships can always grow.
I've often been moved by what happens when parents and babies begin feeling safer with one another.
There is often a little more softness.
A little more confidence.
A little more ease.
Not because either one has changed.
But because they are beginning to find each other again.
Attachment is not something a parent gives to a baby, but something that grows between them.
It's shaped in ordinary moments.
A smile.
A cuddle.
A sigh of relief.
A middle-of-the-night feeding.
A moment of frustration.
A moment of repair.
A moment of finding each other again.
And again.
And again.
Perhaps that is why I love this work so much.
Not because I'm interested in creating perfect parents.
But because I'm endlessly fascinated by the way relationships grow.
Over the years, another thought has stayed with me.
Babies don't need parents who never lose their way. They need parents who know how to find their way back.
I believe that's true for children.
I believe it's true for adults.
I believe it's true for all relationships.
I believe every person comes into this world whole.
From our very first breath, we are shaped by relationships.
By the ways we are held.
The ways we are seen.
The ways we are comforted. And by the experiences life places in our path.
Some experiences invite us to grow, while others ask us simply to survive.
In trying to protect ourselves, we all develop ways of adapting. Those adaptations are not signs that something is wrong with us.
They are signs of how deeply we are designed to survive, to belong, and to protect what matters most.
My work isn't about changing who people are.
It's about creating the conditions where they can remember who they've always been… and gently find their way back to themselves, and to each other.
Helping parents and babies remember who they truly are… and find their way back to each other.
