A Dual Contribution to Prenatal and Perinatal Psychology Literature

Baby Verses: The Narrative Poetry of Infants and Toddlers

Michael Trout (2008) Champaign, IL: Infant-Parent Institute. 101 pages. Order from: www.infant-parent.com.

Reviewed by Marcy Axeness, Ph.D

Fifteen years ago I attended what had been described to me as the “crème de la crème” of adoption conferences, in Traverse City. And there I first met Michael Trout, a bearded bear of a man who spoke for babies. And did so in a commanding baritone. At that conference, Michael, whom I soon learned was the director of the Infant-Parent Institute in nearby Champaign, IL, unveiled his film “Gentle Transitions: A Newborn Baby’s Point of View About Adoption.” The simple black screen with silent, white text and poignantly beautiful music was an elegant, compelling way of giving voice to the one member of the triad who has no say in the adoption process. Speaking the unspoken–and sometimes unspeakable–is the territory that Michael covers in his practice, and in his writing and filmmaking. His new book, Baby Verses: The Narrative Poetry of Infants and Toddlers, is the result (as he writes in the Introduction) of his 35-year-long “habit of looking carefully, and imagining” the pre-verbal inner life of toddlers, infants, and prenates. He sagely writes, “Child welfare policy, birth practices, certain parts of medical care, even everyday child care practices are all challenged, once we are rattled into imagining that the baby is fully present, and is actually responding to what we are doing.” Indeed, Michael does rattle us with his work–all of us, even seasoned APPPAH members–because it isn’t always easy reading. “It is hard because it is truth, and most people don't want to hear the truth,” says APPPAH co-president and primal therapist Wendy McCord, “This is a very courageous book.” Examples:

am i honestly telling you that this toxic brew / in which i marinate– / my mother’s chemicals that are, of course also my chemicals, / because i live and breathe and eat everything she does– / is changing me from whoever i started out to be / into a child for whom nothing matters as much as... surviving?

a wonderful thing, when you think about it: / i was equipped to not just lie around / like a hunk of roast beef, / but to pay attention, to watch out, to figure out how to cope.

…

maybe i’ll just get tough as nails / and never cry / and figure out that males have power just given to them, / so i’ll grab all there is and use it on somebody. / (or, if i turn out to be a girl, / maybe i’ll cuddle right up to those powerful boys.)

maybe i’ll be a short-tempered little brat / (“i want what i want when i want it!”) / because i’m more than a little tired of having everything / in my life controlled by others.

maybe i’ll just give up. / because you know what? / giving up is actually like being in charge: / you never expect anything to turn out good, / and then things come out just like you said.

— from “breaking peaces,” about domestic violence

Eighteen verses cover infancy/toddlerhood topics such as gender difference, fears, maternal depression, divorce, individuation; birth and perinatal issues such as adoption and circumcision; and prenatal issues such as rejection, vanishing twin, and domestic violence (excerpted above), with Jean Rettun’s illustrations offering gentle visual echoes. I’m confident that even the most psychologically sophisticated reader will experience important “Ah-hah” moments by the grace of these babies’ unvarnished, often discomfiting reportage. Michael acknowledges that his guesses at his tiny subjects’ mentation may not be right, but emphasizes, “What matters is that we have deigned to listen, to wonder, to be enraptured by the way babies go about coping, adapting, understanding.”

Accompanied by a CD featuring audio versions of nine of the verses, the book is impeccably produced. Michael has devoted the highest quality of materials and level of attention to every detail, as if to honor all those babies who did not have the best of everything, whose raw materials were far from the best; as if to say, “This is for you. Here is the beauty, the mindfulness, the conscientious attention you should have received, but didn’t.” Get this book. Michael hopes–and I am quite certain–that “your work as a parent, or a physician, or a therapist, or a child, will be enriched by the attempt to apprehend the meaning that experience has for infants and toddlers.”

…

The Hope-Filled Parent

(audio CD w/ booklet)

,

by Michael Trout, 2008. Champaign, IL: Infant-Parent Institute. Order from: www.infant-parent.com

As someone who is oriented to teaching, practicing and writing about attachment neurobiology and the power of parenting, I am deeply appreciative of Michael Trout’s new CD, The Hope-Filled Parent. The sub-title, “Meditations for foster and adoptive parents of children who have been harmed,” belies its relevance for all parents, at least on some days, in some circumstances. But yes, its uniqueness is in speaking to those parents of children whose attachment has been disrupted in seismic ways, whose behavior represents the (brilliant!) coping adaptations articulated in Baby Verses, and with whom daily life becomes a body-and-soul obstacle course laid out on a mine field. With selections like “Meltdown at Walmart,” “What Were We Thinking?”, “Your Sweet Persistence,” and “I Get Tired, and I Forget,” parents in the most challenging of circumstances are sure to find empathic communion and even more important, self-compassion. A meticulous researcher and clinician, the material Michael presents her is consistent with the latest interpersonal neurobiology research–theory transformed into the most immediate practice. Several selections are authored by one of the most gifted experts on attachment-wounded children, Daniel Hughes. It was his utterly profound “Melinda” track that Michael played to close out his keynote presentation at the Nelson Regional Conference--and I freely admit it--undid me!

Together, Michael Trout’s Baby Verses and The Hope-Filled Parent create a satisfying symmetry: child’s perspective, parents’ perspective. And in the middle, grace. Redemption. Hope. Another knot in the rope.