During my first pregnancy, I made time to read magazine articles and books about newborn development. I was so curious about what my baby would be like—and how I would know what she needed—given that she obviously wouldn’t be able to communicate it to me verbally.
My mom’s words of wisdom were constant:
“Don’t worry so much; when your baby arrives, you’ll know exactly what to do.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe her, but, as she herself used to tell me: “no one learns from someone else’s experience.” So, I continued seeking out reading material that interested me.
Several articles that fell into my hands emphasized how important it was to talk to babies—even as newborns, using complete sentences and assuming that the baby understood the entire message. They stressed the importance of one’s tone of voice and, whenever possible, making eye contact with the baby as well.
Since this concept was a recurring theme in my reading, the moment I held my beautiful baby in my arms, I found it effortless to start speaking to her in full sentences, assuming she would understand me, while using an appropriate tone of voice and seeking eye contact. I absolutely loved it.
I recall comments from other people who witnessed my little chats with my baby; they would ask me:
“Why do you talk to your baby like that? She doesn’t understand you!”
By then, I had already developed that habit with her, and it felt so natural to me that I hadn’t even realized that not many other moms were doing that at the time. My only response was simply to repeat what I had read earlier.
A few months went by, and then something unexpected happened. Jessica, at about six months of age, began speaking her first words. It was so beautiful to see her, so tiny, mimicking our conversations. We would have our “long talks” together.
As time went on, when my younger daughter, Nataly, came into our lives, I made a point of speaking to her in the same way, using complete sentences, a loving tone, and seeking eye contact. Of course, things were a bit different because Jessica, at three years old, also needed attention.
Something I didn’t realize until much later was that Jessica was paying close attention to what I did with Nataly, and *how* I did it. As the months went by, I noticed that Jessica had started talking to Nataly in the exact same way I did: using a loving tone, speaking in the manner typical of a child nearing four years old, and making sure to establish eye contact.
And that is how the two of them began to bond. Nataly responded attentively to her big sister’s words and affection.
There were times, once Nataly was able to sit up on her own, when I would leave them in the living room while I kept an ear out from the kitchen. I would listen to them “chatting” amongst themselves and with their toys.
On one occasion, when she was about nine months old, Nataly really “got going” with her baby-talk chatter. Sticking to my usual habit of speaking to her in complete sentences—while maintaining eye contact and a loving tone—I said:
–“Yes, my love? I’m so glad you’re telling me! But I don’t understand you; give me a hint!”
To which Jessica replied:
–“Oh, mom! What do you mean you don’t understand her?”
I turned to look at Jessica in confusion, and she continued:
–“Nataly says she wants her blankie.”
–“What? How can you understand her?”
–“Well, she’s saying it!”
“Let’s see, Nataly, what is it you want, my love?”
And Nataly “answered”:
–“(Baby sounds)”
And Jessica said to me:
-“Did you hear, mom?”
My astonishment was immense. Jessica could understand Nataly’s babbling! And not only that, but she was translating for me the very things I couldn’t grasp. It was so funny—and so real; this continued to happen right up until Nataly was old enough to truly articulate her words as she grew.
Jessica and Nataly shared such a deep connection that they communicated in ways that went far beyond the words I could understand. And perhaps, not only their closeness, but the love between them.
Has it ever happened to you that you wished you could understand someone else better?
In Scripture, the coming of the Holy Spirit is described as a moment when the apostles were able to speak in new tongues, and people from other places were able to understand them. Could it be that they possessed a greater openness to love than before, enabling them to communicate?
In my case, it wasn’t that I didn’t love Nataly, which might not have explained why I didn’t understand her quite the way Jessica did. But I knew that from the moment my baby bump began to grow, Jessica had been eagerly anticipating her little sister so she could play with her. They have always shared a very strong bond.
In contrast, in those moments when I did not find a good point of connection with someone else, I likely would have benefited from greater openness.
In your own experience, do you long for better communication with someone else? Is there a particular area of that relationship where God is inviting you to cultivate greater openness?
If the Spirit leads you, share with Jesus the Carpenter whether you would like to achieve a deeper mutual understanding with someone else. And perhaps, in doing so, you will discover an invitation to delve deeper into openness and attentiveness.
Marisol
P.S.: We can hear about how the apostles were able to communicate with a wider range of people in the readings from Pentecost Sunday, yer/ cycle A.
