Letter to an expecting mom…

So, I recently wrote this letter to a dear, very-pregnant, friend who bravely admitted her anxieties about becoming a mom, and a very passionate and lengthy response just gushed out of me. Although this may be due to who I select as friends, nearly all of my mom-friends would probably say that becoming a mom is the most intense and significant experience in their lives. I am including a slightly-doctored version of the letter here, which may or may not resonate with fellow moms (and dads) out there…

I have been thinking about you ALL DAY and frustrated about not being able to email you. I've been bullet pointing so many things, mentally composing drafts of responses to you in my head, only to (in my head) crumpling up and tossing them in the wastebasket and starting over. So much to say it's hard to know where to begin but here goes...(By the way, part of the reality with being a new mom is not being able to get time to get to the computer... how hard is that, to get to the computer, to write a little email? Sometimes, REALLY HARD... why I can't endorse a hand-held device (i.e. ONE hand) enough, for doing EVERYTHING... from ordering on Amazon, to surfing the net, to using GPS, to reading -yes, reading novels, to making reservations, to Facebook, to pictures, to baby apps, to music, to everything... an iPad, while lovely, actually sometimes seems TOO BIG). Okay, I digress, but channeling new mommy (plus Steve Job's recent passing) made me type that.

So, the last thing I would ever do, particularly because you are embarking (are already in) the land of everyone telling you what to do, what to buy, and worse, how to think and feel, is respond by saying something along the lines of "it'll all work itself out" or “you’re worrying too much." How dismissive! If any well-meaning person said that to you, I apologize, and they probably meant it in a good way or from a good place, but I really flinched, on more than a few occasions, from people telling me (after I spilled some of my mommy guts) about being "too hard on myself." What I mean here can’t even completely be verbalized, but what I want to say is everything you are feeling, I would venture, transcends "mommy anxiety." It is, in essence, you becoming a Mommy. Put another way, you are voicing a process that I would argue that everyone goes through, in their own way, and I think you are ahead of the game for your ability to recognize your feelings and communicate about them.

So much of what I'm recalling bridges the last-trimester to newborn time for us, and of course that is just the biggest divide ever, but I think the post-partum reflections are relevant now, too! Your little one is already very much here and real and your little one already, just a bit more “integrated" now.

I know and recall being nervous and scared about giving birth (who isn't??), but I took some solace in the fact that(a) everyone has a mommy, so (b) a whole lotta women did it too. It’s not about performing; you don't have to look pretty or be graceful or smart OR BE BRAVE about it. No one gets a grade. There are many ways to give birth, and the way that you do will almost completely be out of your control. The things you can control, you've done already (i.e. get prenatal care, be healthy in pregnancy, torture yourself with videos and books and conversations like these). When your baby comes into this world will largely be up to him.

On epidurals: if you are vacillating, then that is fine; it is your decision. But if you need anyone to give you "permission" or "endorsement," here it is...they may not always work 100%, but even a not-perfect epidural probably kicks the shit out of a "natural" birth. And there are incredible success stories (like mine); I had no pain post epidural until after Grace was born. I napped; it was fine. I was very very lucky, and I can say that, because I felt Pitocin-induced contractions for almost 3 hours before I got it. Survivable experience, no lasting trauma, but OMG that epidural was the best medicine I've ever gotten. If given the option, I would always get one.

Other pains? Yes, inevitable, but nothing that isn't temporary or that isn’t usually able to be alleviated, often pretty quickly. Lady-part pain? Yes. Nipple pain? Yes. Don't deviate from ibuprofen or Tylenol or both during that post-birth period (i.e take on a schedule, before you feel pain), and I found the nipple gel pads in the fridge to be amazing (put on in between nursing). Eat a lot of ice cream (if you aren't already). No joke, it helps. The hospital might give you these ice-pads; I loved them and highly recommend, along with dermaplast (numbing spray for downstairs). Not too much on your feet for weeks after; after too much standing time, I had to sit(literally, my pelvic bones hurt), but ALL THAT GOES AWAY. I promise. I also sat on Grace's boppy for a few weeks after (think: donut).Everyone says how important to sleep is, and they're right, and when they say "sleep when the baby sleeps" I always got annoyed because I’m a shitty sleeper, but they're right. If you can, do. I at least reclined.

Parenting... holy diapers what a big topic. I'll let you know what the answer is as soon as I figure it out. Only that I can say is you GOT IT IN THE BAG. For every 1 moment that you feel nervous or anxious or can’t figure out what to do, there will be 10 (or more like a 100)when you do figure it out and you do have a discovery (the three of you together) and you just nail it. You guys will have some moments where you are both tired and confused, or disagree about how to do something, but ultimately (and most of the time you will be conscious of this) you will becoming the absolute best versions of the team that you decided to form. This is the biggest adventure you could ever possibly go on, and you're doing it together! Ah I remember a time when I worried (hello hormones but it was also a real phase to be going through) that it took some time for Mike to be as "in love" with Gracie as I was (i.e. he loved her, but the cast-iron hold she had over his essence lagged a little in its formation than it did on mine). Now I joke (and have for at least 6 months) that Gracie has not one but two mommies. He cries like a little girl (sorry Mike, but it’s true) over her, because he is so deeply in love with her, and our parenting is thus 100% 50/50. Your partner will be the same way. Yes, you may have to shoulder more in the beginning if nursing, but then he can do more of all the other stuff (i.e. all when not at work) diapers, cooking, cleaning (but don't worry so much about cleaning and take it easy on cooking).

Talk ahead of time about... whatever you want to and whenever you want to! The most important part is being able to talk to each other; none of it is binding! It's that old head-fake (it's not the what you talk about or the what you agree upon; you're just practicing for after baby is here)! I recommend against making too many promises or declarations (like "We 100% won't... (fill in the blank: use a pacifier, let the baby sleep with us, give my kid candy, use disposable diapers, WHATEVER). It's all practice for making decisions for after he is here.

I wish the last trimester was a time where you really could relax, but how can you when you can (probably, at least this was me) barely breathe (or at least have to choose between breathing and eating), getup 6 times a night to pee, have heartburn, and have all this external pressure??

Things that helped the most:
1. having a few good fellow-mom confidantes that I could run everything by (just to make sure I wasn't crazy) and that would listen to me talk incessantly about my questions about whatever that week’s challenges were (nursing schedules, sleep schedules, food adventures, all of it). Do you have a tribe yet (or better yet, a few good one-on-ones; sometimes groups can get competitive)? Oh I hope, almost more than anything, that you have at least one mom-friend that you can say anything to. I am also here, too!!!

2. There are few good reads, and yes, there are many useful parenting manuals (I felt like we had to start somewhere, right? You don't just inherently know how to bake a soufflé, nor do you inherently know whatto do with a baby). I liked Baby Whisperer (Eat, Activity, Sleep,REPEAT) and Baby 411, but I still found myself googling my specific problem on that specific day at all hours of the night ALL THE TIME. Still do. What stayed with me even more was Rachel Cusk's A Life’s Work (read after, not now) and I loved this TED lecture:

http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/rufus_griscom_alisa_volkman_let_s_talk_parenting_taboos.html

But don't read ahead; just focus on what your currently dealing with. Any more is overwhelming. I'm the world's dumbest person about potty-training because I am literally not ready to even begin conceiving of it, let alone read about it.

3. HELP, HELP, and MORE HELP. Never turn down any that is offered, at least in the first 6 months, whether it's a fellow mom-friend who offers to watch the baby for 3 hours while you sleep (or Facebook) or whatever, or casseroles, or whatever. Yes, those were imperative statements; wanted this email to not be preachy, but sorry, I guess I can’t help myself either!

4. A little beer and a little wine never hurt a nursing baby. Personal decision, up to you, but mama needs to unwind and stress is definitely way worse.

What else? Oh! That's right; it all frigging changes so fast that whatever challenge presents itself now will be replaced by another challenge in a month that makes the first challenge look easy...having said that, I think the first 6 months is hardest only because new mommies are by definition, new. So after a while you get used to the roller coaster, or marathon, and you just start enjoying both the up and down hills.... but, What the hell do I know? I'm just an anxious mommy, too! So please TELL ME when you figure it all out!

So much love,
Erin

Finding Community

Ever moved? Ever? Well, I think 90% of people I know and love have, and of those, probably another 90% have moved at least a 2 hours drive (although most at least a 2 hour flight) from whatever they considered their childhood home. Okay, my network is not a random sample, and technically I didn’t even count up all my friends and measure their geographic distance from point of origin. It just feels like 90%. And for even the remaining 10% (which may be an over-estimate), they’ve certainly been affected by an exodus of friends and family moving away from their hometown. What does it mean, all this relocating? All these moving companies and having to find new post offices and grocery stores and dry-

cleaners and hair stylists and mechanics and friends.

It means excitement, right? The new job, the new partner, the new adventure that beckoned, that said, “move here! It’s better over here, this new place!” It promises upward movement; new opportunity, growth. The experience of discovery, of donning new fashions, assuming new customs, trying new food. It means saying “hello” in a new way; of finding new challenges and seeing new views.

It also means saying goodbye, for however long, to old places, deep-rooted friendships, navigating effortlessly through familiar streets, to knowing how to order what’s not listed on the menu, to secret haunts and town traditions, to the predictable. To loved ones, to easy, face-to-face conversation or wordless activities. To people that you trust with your kids, that will cat-sit and water your plants and fetch your mail. To going to parties where you know more than one person, and they know you; to grapevines. To community.

Where has community gone, in this present time of ours? Where does it inevitably spring up? Online, social-networking? Sure, in some ways, and I would argue that these forums are a resource beyond just emotional support. But they can’t replace, can’t substitute for handshakes and hugs, for brownies that a neighbor brings by, for help shoveling out cars in the winter and sharing bbq in the summer. It does happen, again and again, that new ties form and relationships start and in my narrow academic/military experience, I’ve encountered incredible instances of spontaneous community-making. Even when that community consists of only two people, or two families. It happens, and it is such a beautiful thing to meet someone or some people and feel that you have known them your whole life.

But, I fear and feel that there’s an underlying loneliness to these times, too, and I think it’s one that most of us see, all too often. I’m not just talking about the protoypical lonely person; the older widow or widower image that we all assume must be lonely. I’m talking about the antisocialism we all encounter in our cars; the anonymity of the majority of our business transactions; the being in a crowded cafe, bus stop, or even cocktail party and feeling that lack of real connection. Is this the way of humans, or is this the way of the human globalized and networked and en masse?

The thing is, though, in these times (read always) there is always the chance to connect. There is always a back-story to every encounter. We notice, and we are noticed. There’s the neighbor who’s name I still don’t know who left baby pajamas and a toy on my doorstop after G was born. There’s my other neighbor (and now dear friend) who constantly brings us over brownies and adores watching our cat whenever we go out of town. There’s the friends who connect you with other friends until all of sudden your husband is playing in a random band with someone’s friend’s husband’s wife’s husband. There’s the UPS deliveryman that you never realized always delivered the endless Amazon packages at your door who finally meets you and asks about your baby and reveals that his wife was also pregnant, but that they lost their little boy. Who you realized, was waiting to make a connection with you, but you weren't home before when he dropped off all those boxes of diapers. Who was waiting to look you in the eye and wish your family well.

There are true souls out there, who want out companionship, who are hoping for connection, under all that busy-ness and stress. Don’t we all? I think community is as alive as it ever was, it just looks a little different than it may have in the past. It’s online, yes, but it’s also down the street. It’s in the churches and temples and at the few remaining mom-and-pops’, but it’s also at Dunkin Donuts and Starbucks and Target. It’s in the little attempts we make; the holding the door, the unbidden greeting, the smile, the briefest of looks of understanding.

It’s bringing that neighbor who you keep running into but won’t look you in the eye homemade cookies that your 3-year-old made and decorated; who couldn’t that melt?

It’s there; community always was and always will be.

Su, this is dedicated to you.

The "Other" Me

The blog is BACK… or so I attempt to promise, and therefore deliver. Where have I been? Besides living, I’ve been pretty busy being what I like to now dub the “E Triad”: wife & mom | researcher | “other” (which includes everything else, like “person who works out” and “person who shops for groceries” and “person who occasionally talks on phone to friends and family”). Also add to other: “person who blogs.” I’ve been neglecting my other, so to speak and letting my blog go fallow. But I have a lot to report, mostly on Gracie as well as other caffeine-inspired manic word-binges, so stay tuned…

In the meantime, let me pontificate on the need to be an “other.” Where oh where did extracurricular Erin go? I was just reflecting, today, on my abandonment of all things crafty. Not that I was ever talented as a crafster, but I did have a level of dash and daring when it came to the home arts; if you’re reading this, you may know about my epic wedding-favor jam-making expedition, or my many attempts at knitting baby hats and adult scarves. Or my PaperSource stationery kits.

Ah, memories. Don’t worry, I haven’t been so bold as to throw out the boxes of college and high school t-shirts I’ve saved for the some-day t-shirt quilt I intend to make, and yes, I still have drawers full of stickers, rubber stamps, and various kinds of glitter, even multiple shades of sealing wax. But these items are growing dusty, because there is no time, and I must admit, zero interest. I suppose I thought I would be a crafty mom. Yes, maybe there’s time, but maybe part of me just realized that it’s okay to totally veg out when watching TV; one doesn’t always have to be gluing something together. Or maybe I’m just too exhausted to care. Yes, I think creative outlets are so important, for everyone, but I don’t know that all of my former life craftiness was always so creative. Sometimes, it was just obsessive.

Or maybe I just have too much laundry to fold when Glee is on! Speaking of which, I have some serious couch-sitting to do…

Cheers!
~e