“Zero Separation” to increase the survival of small and premature babies
In this reduced lockdown space, where exalted emotions cry like wounds – both from adults and from children – few things grant us fresh air. Breastfeeding is more than ever a restful place, a shared caress, an interior paradise, a fountain of hope for life, that life which we will dive back into some day.
Unique and valuable experiences pile up these days… We are each trapped in our space, a lack of outward movement and a lack of reference points to help us plan for the nearby future.
Perhaps that is why I turn to writing as a therapeutic resource, to mobilize my thoughts, my emotions, which have been rendered still by a lack of perspective. I search for anchors in the present to keep me from doubts of what will be, or of what I will do with what will be.
Today I find I am observing myself as a breastfeeding mother. My baby has just turned one year old in a time of confinement, secluded at home for more than a month and no expectations of change. But these moments hold immense peace, joy and gratitude for life – it gives me great comfort each time we are alone and breastfeed. The intimacy of the breast, of the quiet hug, of his loving gaze, of his openness to nourishment, makes me certain I am also being nourished. Through my body, feeling him relax, glow with oxytocin, becoming conscious of love, basking in it. Few things are such a powerful reference as this within these four walls. I drop my anchor in serene waters.
In this reduced lockdown space, where exalted emotions cry like wounds – both from adults and from children – few things grant us fresh air. Breastfeeding is more than ever a restful place, a shared caress, an interior paradise, a fountain of hope for life, that life which we will dive back into some day.
How would I survive without this inescapable encounter, this date with no rain check, this time of the body, of calmness for the other?
I am conscious now, having taken the time to word this, to share it with you, of how much it means to me.
In this way, time is transformed into something new, a new way of gazing at each other, of holding.
This is my contribution from the well of myself, knowing nothing shall be as it was. Now, more than ever, we have to begin from that place where we all are one, the place we cannot run from: our own humanity.
By Patricia Fernández Lorenzo, psychologist and family therapist.
Art: Helena Valcarcel
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