There is a lot to like in this term. For one it emphasizes cooperation instead of ownership, unlike the legal term, “shared custody.” For another, it clearly places the responsibility for childcare on more than one person since “co” as a prefix indicates that the job of parenting is shared. I have seen many children with parents where one person silently seethes with rage while doing the bulk of the childcare, usually holding down a full-time job as well. “Parenting” does not indicate that the duty is shared.

Co-parenting is not simple, but I’m not sure it’s any harder than other types of parenting when co-parents are friends and capable of communication. With the exception of people whose co-parent is an abusive partner, I have come to think that co-parenting is actually a better model, based on the fact that, by definition, it requires mutual cooperation, planned moments of sitting down to discuss options and strategies. My co-parent and I have to be on the same page, because otherwise everything falls apart. We communicate better now than we ever did in the past.

Successful co-parenting relies on the ability to put oneself aside for the good of the child. When disagreements arise, the question comes down to “What is best for our child?” Not my child. Our child.

Co-parenting with a history of trauma, however, requires a level of self-awareness that I never imagined reaching. There are days when I fail, when it seems I will need miracle to get where I need to be. Except I have no choice but to reach for more awareness, continually walking into uncomfortable places where I am forced to stretch and learn. Put simple: I cannot advocate for what I need or for what my son needs if I remain unaware. 

Despite not being traditional life partners, I rely on my co-parent more than ever before. I rely on them to be the counterpoint in situations where trauma rears its ugly head. When I cannot see clearly, because trauma has taken over. This is when they need to be able to be the voice of reason. Since beginning to co-parent, we have had to have far more discussions about trauma than we ever did before, because we are both survivors.   

Here are some random tips that have worked in my experience. Take from them what you will.

Consciously putting our child first over my desire to win. CP and I are both competitive, Type A people. We set high standards for ourselves, and tend to stand in our righteousness, as Martha Beck would put it. When I’m wrong, I find it next to impossible to admit it, although I’m getting better, which means we can end up in a disastrous situation quickly. Since LA is too young to have an opinion at this point, he cannot be the final say in the matter. When we clash, someone has to cede or, more often, a compromise must be reached. I have had to bite my tongue many times now, reminding myself that this is not about old issues in our relationship, or about losing or winning. This is about LA’s well-being, and no child needs to see his parents fighting even if it’s over what they both believe to be in his best interest.

Wrangling the winner/loser mindset into submission—usually by meditation—I implement the technique a friend refers to as “overriding priorities.” My friend is a lawyer, so she likes clear nomenclature. I ask myself: is this issue a life or death one for me? If not, I cede. If it is, I try to reach a compromise. For example, I was raised without screens. No television. No movies. CP had the opposite experience. I do have issues with screens, so ceding completely was not an option. I negotiated a compromise. Since another priority is to raise LA with regular exposure to other languages, I agreed to limited screen time and CP agreed to keep screen time to content in Spanish.

While setting aside the winner/loser mindset would apply to all situations, in a situation where coparents have histories of trauma, there are other important aspects to be considered. We have to support each other in taking care of ourselves. As much as it is my responsibility to care for myself, it helps to have CP notice that I am in a rough place and offer to take LA for a half hour while I go for a run. Sometimes, I’m unaware that I am trapped in the trauma mindset until it’s pointed out by someone else. CP could remain quiet, but because CP knows that LA’s wellbeing depends on mine, CP will sacrifice a half hour for me to have space to meditate. In order to do this well, words matter. No commands. Just suggestions from a place of kindness and empathy.

Clear boundaries are key. I tend to default to doing whatever is necessary to avoid conflict even when it means sacrificing my needs. This coping mechanism leads to exhaustion and an inability to function which is, again, not an option when a child is involved. I have learned to take a few minutes to go to a quiet place and write down how I feel, to try to discover why I am feeling that way. For example, a couple of months after LA was born, I felt a level of tightness inside that I could not shake loose. When I used the writing method, I discovered that I felt there was an injustice happening in regards to time, but I was afraid to speak up. Writing helped me see my responsibilities for LA were not daily occurrences but more sporadic–larger–time investments. If you haven’t had an infant in a while, you may not realize how often they have to go to the doctor to be checked. Plus, LA was born with a Cow’s Milk Protein allergy that took a while to identify. In the first two months of his life, I was in and out of the pediatrician’s office, radiology, urology and gastroenterology until we found the answer to his constant crying. 

It wasn’t until I could pinpoint the source of my feelings, however, that I could approach CP to try to find a solution. Awareness of how I felt and why I felt that way was crucial to renegotiating the terms. 

Coparenting is a matter of trial and error, of grace and compassion. It’s a practice, a lot like mindfulness. 

The post Mindful Coparenting first appeared on Mindful Mommying.