Auntie Guilt – Or Guilty Aunt?
Meredith Heath-Bratton has an M.A. in Teaching English as a Second Language and has completed all the coursework for a Ph.D. in American Literature
Meredith Heath, aunt to nephews A, B, and C, erstwhile graduate student, and coffee master extraordinaire, writes about her feelings of loss during a period of transition in the lives of her nephews. An avid aunt for nearly six years and surrogate aunt to countless (no, really) other nieces and nephews, Meredith spends much of her free time with “the babies.” When not playing with the little ones or serving a hot cup o’ Joe at the local coffee shop, Meredith can be found researching family history, reading texts from the literary canon she missed during ten years of college, and wrangling ideas about how to return to graduate school without paying for tuition.
When my oldest nephew was born, I firmly told my freshmen college students that I would not be in class on his induction date. They would have an online assignment; any and all communication with me would have to be via email until the following Monday. That Friday I arrived at the hospital early, climbed into the hospital bed with my sister, and let her squeeze my hand when the contractions became unbearable. My exhausted brother-in-law napped on the narrow cushions in the “daddy bed” by the window, overtaken by his need for sleep after an overnight shift at FedEx.
Fast forward fifteen months, and I began to re-think the perceived necessity of being at the hospital when each nephew was born, partially because I wasn’t sure whether my new employer would consider this event adequate reason to cancel class. Nephew #2 was induced on a Friday morning as well, but unlike before, I remained in class; I just kept my fingers crossed that he would not arrive until I could reach the hospital. His little self couldn’t wait any longer though, and my mom called between my classes to let me know he was here safe and sound. When I finally made it to see them, I held Little Bit for hours, and he sneezed for the first time outside the womb in my arms. We sang him “Happy Birthday” and rejoiced over his new life.
Nephew #3 nearly caused me to panic a little over a year later: he was almost three weeks early, and my sister rushed to the hospital after she lost her mucus plug. I’d never been pregnant, so when I heard “blood + baby,” my heart rate went through the roof. Our family barely made it to the hospital before my sister delivered, but he was born as healthy and happy as his two big brothers.
Auntie Guilt
Thus began my Auntie guilt. To this day I feel guilty for not only having not been at the hospital when my middle nephew was born but also for other missed opportunities I took for granted because he was not the oldest child, then reconsidered as important with the baby. Moreover, my Monkey in the Middle has a personality unto himself: of the three boys, Baby B is particularly unique in that he rarely initiates physical affection. Auntie Me is a hugger and cuddler, as are babies A and C. What can I do, then, to alleviate my Auntie guilt and connect with my middle nephew? I have seen firsthand the damage that favoritism can do: one twin versus the other, the youngest, the oldest, the boy, the girl. By no means will I allow this little guy to feel ostracized merely because he and I don’t communicate affection similarly.
Years ago, I became familiar with a series of book entitled The Five Love Languages by psychologist Dr. Gary Chapman. His premise is straightforward and simple. As human beings we communicate love through five basic methods: physical affection, acts of service, giving gifts, quality time, and words of affirmation. He also suggests that most individuals favor one or two of these methods over the others and therefore utilize them more frequently within the context of loving relationships. Having read his material before, I considered purchasing his book regarding the love languages of children to be a worthwhile investment given my perplexity over my relationship with my nephew.
Love Languages
In this volume, Chapman postulates that as children mature past toddlerhood, their respective love languages will become apparent to their caregivers and that, when “spoken” frequently, these love languages help solidify a child’s self esteem and assurance of being loved. In the meantime, he recommends expressing love to a child via all five love languages equally. He also indicates that a child’s primary love language might not become evident until he or she is about five years old. Given that time frame, I have about three months to go to figure this thing out!
In all sincerity, one cannot diminish the complexity of human relationships merely to a singular theory regarding the expression of love, nor does this essay seek to serve as a critical observation of Dr. Chapman’s work. However, there is something to be said for selfless love – one that regards another’s needs over one’s own (i.e., adapting to how my nephew receives love and not merely communicating my affection via means most comfortable for me). But even before having read this latest installment of Dr. Chapman’s series, I realized that I wasn’t doing my nephew any favors by refraining from hugging or kissing him, since he often argues “I don’t want that!” One day, he will recognize that my hugs, kisses, and cuddles are the highest form of expression for me as I love him dearly, while I simultaneously search for the most effective means of showing him he is loved in his own unique way.
I am unsure as to whether I will ever get over my Auntie guilt, but I know one thing for sure: this is one aunt not guilty of failing to seek what’s best for her nephews.
Published: October 23, 2012