Smile power.

And so it begins: Oa’s social unfolding. His first smile. Not the one he was squeezing out while pushing through his stool or moving gas around. Not the accidentally shaped morphological resemblance that might look like one. There is a clear, deliberate and intentional expression in response to a stimulus. Guillaume Duchenne was a French neurologist who, in the 1800s, established what is considered a genuine smile to this day. Duchenne discovered that what distinguishes a real smile from a fake one is the engagement of the muscles around the eyes. Not only does the mouth have to be active, but also the corners of the eyes. Oa is engaging the corners of his eyes while fixing his gaze on mine, without fear, shame or shyness of any kind. He melts in the overwhelming power of the moment and surrenders to his young emotions. It is truly special to observe, especially its unfolding, a swift journey from a reflexive squirm to a fully directed and conscious smile.

Apart from the study of the smile, Duchenne investigated human emotions by attaching electrodes to people’s faces. He categorised and documented a range of facial expressions with corresponding emotions. I imagine this mildly obsessed researcher, trying to understand others and coming up with a way to soothe his uncertainty by building clarity in a scientific way. I relate to that obsession. With the diligence of a scientist, I observe Oa and notice minuscule changes in his facial expressions.

The smile is by far the most impactful of all so far. Not only does it fill me with joy, but it also brings up various kinds of behaviour. For example, I notice that I want to make him smile, and if he does not, it leaves me with a slight feeling of disappointment. It happens involuntarily. I simply lean into that desire to receive a smile from him. I move closer to his face, making sure he sees me, as apparently babies can only see about 40 centimetres away from them. I tickle his feet and scratch his belly, waiting for him to shape his face into something I interpret as a smile. I did not realise at first that, with the introduction of Oa’s smile, we stepped into a relationship where he has something I like, and he has the power to give it to me or not. To correct the above, I stepped into a relationship, while he is simply being, exploring his humanness. It is fascinating to observe my internal workings and how easily they are activated. I want to make my son smile. In this seemingly simple desire lies the complexity of human interaction. Who else do I want to make smile? How far can I go for the smile I want? What impact does my pleasing behaviour have on Oa’s understanding of the world and how it works? All these questions run through my head as I look into his big blue eyes. Most importantly, how do I move forward with this knowledge? I am once again in an existential split. I want to evoke his smile and feel the energy of it entering my body, yet I do not want to work for it or make it into a currency or a tool of control.

A few possible pathways enter my mind.

I can try my best to make him smile, pulling out all the possible tricks I have learnt as my own life unfolded. This will possibly also teach him when to smile and where to find pleasure, because by the end of the day he mimics my smiles and learns through my emotions.

I can unleash my curiosity towards him and investigate what he reacts to, and multiply that for him. In response, I receive his precious smiles.

I can do nothing, let him be with his smiles, and take them in when they come without trying my best to squeeze them out.

The latter option seems most desirable. I let him be and observe from the side. However, it will require something from me, sitting with my whims and not acting upon them. This is hard. I am an impulsive being with a strong preference for instant gratification and immediate results. I like it when I get what I want and when it happens effortlessly. How will I manage to stay on the side and give space to little Oa to find out what makes him smile, without creating an inescapable trap of my knowing what he might find nice? I know something about pleasure and attractiveness, and I can give him what I know he will enjoy. But perhaps I am taking away an opportunity for him to find something different. I am aware that, for him, I am an entity of higher salience. I am his mother, and he looks up to me more than to others. This is how it is, and that comes with responsibility. What do I teach him about joy and happiness? Will this teaching be based on my desire to feel joy from his smile, or will I transcend beyond and think further than myself, helping him to connect with what is his? It sounds like an impossible task, given that he is like a sponge, absorbing my smiles and giggles, bouncing them back as his own.

Noticing how I react to his smiles, my desire to get more of those precious laughs gives me a good feeling. Once again, I see there is a window of opportunity to disrupt the chain of reactive impulsivity and move in a conscious way.

I see him for what he is becoming, while keeping respect for my own emotions. I try to separate the two layers: his being and my being, which at this point is surprisingly hard.

I leak myself into him and I see it, tangible as never before. Sometimes it is disturbing, but mostly it is fascinating. Each day is a call to action to take a step back, observe, respect and slow down. I let him show me what he knows, let him teach me, and allow him to leak into me in a reciprocal swirl of experiences.