It's MY Body!

I love how Kiddo helps me hone my skills as a bodyworker.

At the risk of over-sharing, let’s just say that Kiddo has been plugged up a bit and I needed to help him get things "moving" again.  After a cold and then bronchitis, complete with antibiotics and a steroid breathing treatment, his system is out of whack and more than a little sluggish.  I really wanted to give him some abdominal massage with castor oil tonight, in the hopes things will start heading in the right direction:  out.  So I broached the subject with him.

He was initially reticent to embrace the idea and said he “didn’t like” massage... which puzzled me.  He has been on my table since he was a baby, and I’ve seen him enjoy a number of sessions in his eight years on the planet with other therapists, too.  Sensing something else was beneath his declaration, I asked a few questions in the hopes of clarifying his perspective.  He got rather frustrated with me and shouted, “I don’t want you rubbing my tummy because it’s MY body!”  I think my non-flustered, matter-of-fact reply, “You’re right.  It IS your body,” completely puzzled him.  Inside, I was secretly cheering for him.  That’s damn straight, Kiddo – you, and ONLY you, are the master of your body.  Hot damn and way to go in taking charge like that!

I went on to affirm that Kiddo has total control of his body, and can decide who touches him and always has the right to say “No!” if something doesn’t feel right.  I have to admit – I didn’t expect to have such a conversation today, but he clearly was ready for it.  (And we’ve already talked about this topic a number of ways/times in the past, but no previous conversation was quite as direct as today’s.)  As he quieted, I reminded him that I could teach him how to do the massage for himself – so he could get the benefit of the castor oil and remain in charge of how it felt.  He said he wanted to do that, so I planned to show him after his bath.

When he was finished with his bath, I reminded him we needed to do the massage and asked if he was ready to learn.  He surprised me by asking if I would do it for him, instead.  Of course I said yes.  I don’t think I’ve ever turned down a chance to provide Kiddo with some type of positive touch – a hug, high-five, or loving pat on the head.  And when it comes to giving him massage, it just feels like an integral part of our connection as mother and son.  Some probably would say it’s because of my training as a massage therapist but I think it has more to do with my own primary “love language” – physical touch – coupled with the fact that I couldn’t get my hands on him as a newborn for some time.  Being able to look at my son but not hold him for days (19 of them, to be exact!) made me realize very quickly how important it is to accept any and every opportunity I get to connect with him.

So when he asked me tonight if I would rub his tummy, I immediately accepted.  Just like any session, I explained how I’d work with him, what he could expect in terms of details (he is much more relaxed when he gets some info ahead of time in just about any situation), and reminded him that I needed him to tell me if anything hurt or tickled, or if he wanted me to stop.  After getting him situated comfortably – he’s a “nester” just like I am – we began.

I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned it before, so let me tell you:  Kiddo is extremely ticklish.  Wickedly so.  And he has been, right from the start of his extra-early arrival into this world.  I’ve known for years that the pressure he likes – and can tolerate – is quite firm and very, very slow.  Slower-than-molasses slow.  Grandma-on-the-highway slow.  Waiting-for-the-last-drop-of-honey-from-the-dipper slow.  That’s just what he needs, and it's all his body will accept.  And since it’s his body, I’m perfectly fine with that.  He is the one who lives inside his skin, and only he knows what feels comfortable and what doesn’t.  And he does a great job of reminding me when I need to slow down or use more pressure.

Tonight, it took a good five minutes just to establish the contact of my hand on his abdomen without him flinching.  And that came with words of introduction (“I’m going to let my hand sit on your belly now.”) and lots of waiting.  Then, when I started moving my hand even the tiniest bit (again, with words to let him know it was coming next), I had to stop a number of times.  His hands grabbed at his sides, his knees came up and his feet clenched into little balls.  I asked him if he wanted me to stop moving.  He did, but didn’t want me to stop contact.  So I waited.  I reminded him to take a deep breath.  He did.  Little by little, his body relaxed.  And when he seemed to have calmed down, I asked if he wanted me to try again.  He did.

His response was less pronounced the next time I moved my hand – again, just a fraction of an inch – but I could tell he was still uncomfortable.  I paused again and checked in…

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” came the reply.

“Should I slow down?” I prompted.

“Yes, please.”  And he relaxed some more.  I remembered to keep the pressure firm and move very, very slowly.

Soon, I needed to change the direction of my hand and prompted him with that information but still, the flinch happened.  Mind you, it was slight – but it was still there.  And none of this flusters me.  Most clients I’ve worked with haven’t had much abdominal massage and it’s not uncommon for me to notice them holding their breath or feel their muscles tense even the tiniest bit in anticipation of touch in an extremely vulnerable area.  But Kiddo’s responses are heightened to a different level even than that.

“Hmmm…” I mused aloud.  “I wonder if there is a way I can keep my hand here and do a little massage for you but without tickling.”

“Yeah,” he giggled.  “That would be good.”  

“Well, I notice your hands are gripping your sides a lot, right?” (I think I have an idea...)

"Yes."

"What if I had you put your hands on top of my hand... and then you can direct it around your belly?"  (Oh my goodness -- could this work?!)

"Okay."

So that's what he did.  His little hands plopped on top of mine, and he took control of the speed and direction of the session.  I simply let my hand rest firmly on his abdomen and waited for his lead.  Eventually, I noticed his breathing relax even more, and caught him pausing at a place where I felt heat.  We shared some words about what we both felt and then moved on.  Once, he even went a little too quickly, giggled as he flinched, and then stopped himself.  We both had a laugh that he could tickle himself.

The time with him was so precious.  Our hands were connected as one, moving as a unit.  I was fully engaged, and yet I didn't feel like I was "doing" anything.  Have I mentioned how much I love that feeling of presence?  It's a truly wonderful experience... being so in the moment of what is that everything else fades away for that time.  And to have it with my beloved Kiddo made it all the more special.

Soon, he'd had enough of the massage and announced that fact.  We took a moment to "say good-bye" to his tummy and then cleaned up our hands, finishing his preparations before bed.  As we said our night-nights and prayers, he took my hand and placed it over his belly one last time, as if to affirm our connection there before letting it go.  That's right Kiddo -- it's your body.  I'm grateful you allowed me to be present with you tonight.