Hope Dreams

A curious coincidence occurred in my clinical practice this last year or so. I have had four cases of patients (three men and one woman) expecting their first child. All four newborns arrived within six months of each other. They were healthy, bright, and beautiful. Each of the newbies and the prima parents is preoccupied with the process of attachment. The four patients are eager – if not emotionally compelled – to share their experiences with me in detail during the clinical situation. I love the dyadic reflections these moments of joy and anxiety all too readily allow.

Julio, the first to have a baby (a boy), is in his mid-thirties, and I have been seeing him twice a week for close to six years. He came to see me to better understand the tensions he was having with his wife around religious values and intrusive in-laws. “I’m in love with my wife but not her parents, and she is weirdly close to them.” His in-laws live quite close. From my vantage point, they exhale when their daughter inhales, and when she exhales, they inhale. He tells me how much he loves looking at his baby. “Just looking at him is awesome … I love his soft inhalations.”

The second patient to have a baby (a girl) is Will, also in his thirties. We have been working together for eight years on a once-a-week basis. His presenting problem was a “hot” girlfriend whose libidinal desires he wasn’t sure he could satisfy fully. What he seemed to mean was that her vitality was too much for him. While not married, they live together and seem deeply committed to each other. When his partner is nursing, he massages her toes. He says he is in a state of bliss. “I am so moved by the two of them.”

The third of my patients to have a baby (a girl) is Elenor. I started working with her on a once-a-week basis in 2017 upon the death of her therapist. She is in her late thirties and in a gay marriage. It was a high-risk pregnancy, but Elenor, a neonatal intensive care nurse, took all the smart steps to care for herself