No longer just a daughter

I remember that sense of inadequacy when my son was born. I thought I would just instinctively know how to be a mother, predict his needs, sooth him with the sound of my voice, be capable of using my breasts, arms and legs to do exactly what he needed me to do. The first 3 weeks were nothing like that.

My mother came to the rescue, she helped us bond and know one another, she seamed to be the only one in our new little family who knew how to calm him down from his daily colic events. She did this with absolute grace and grandmotherly love, with respect for the three of us and softness and compassion.

But as I watched my mother helped us I felt a loaded mix of love and envy.
Love, for this woman who had once held me like she was now holding my baby. This was no longer the woman I had numerous fights with as a rebelling teen, the woman who I felt resented my decision to move away at 18 and get married at 24, the woman who I had such a hard time connecting with on a intimate level (until then). This was a mother... and I was the baby she birthed and nursed and soothed.
Envy, because I could not do what she was doing, because I was still just a daughter .. because I was afraid of not doing the right thing with my son, and had to look up to her for help though I thought I would have just known by now exactly what to do.

I had to grow from just being a daughter to being a mother.

My mother left when my son was 3 weeks old and I was a mess! I felt as I could simply not master the abilities to be a mother without her help.
But a truly magical thing happened.The first 3 weeks are the hardest for the body, for the baby, for the whole adjustment of night and day routine to sink in. But a combination of time passing and us being the three of us alone for the first time...  I began to trust my instinct, I began to make decisions with my husband as a family, I began to believe in myself. My son and I now had it together!

We were where we needed to be: home.

Today, 22 months later, I smile back at those days. In some ways I am still a daughter but no more than I am a mother. I rarely go to my mother for help with my son, instead I go to my husband then my mommy friends, then the internet, FB... I wonder why that is... might it be because in making choices for my family I want to feel like a mother first and foremost and not like a daughter?!

As she is planning her visit for baby bean on the way I wonder how different this time around will be. Now, not only I can sure change new born diapers with one hand, on the side walk and while talking on the phone, but I have no insecurities about my role as a mother though I need to still work on my role as a daughter

.

where the heart resides

The way the sun feels today on my front porch, chugging on a bottle of water, my son sweetly napping, the chickens out of the coop, my feet up high, the sweet smell of a cherry tree blossoming to my right... just reminds me of you. Can a mom ever stop feeling like every moment of bliss is connected to her little ones?

The sun isn't shining because I birth you and held you skin to skin for so hours; though this warmth brings me back there. My body is not hydrating because you kiss me on my neck while you piggy-back-ride with me down the stairs every morning; though this moisture is as sweet as your kisses.

The seasons just roll over one after the other, careless that this is your first spring as a walking running person. Rain simply falls not concerned with the puddles it leaves behind where you stomp your feet amazed at the response you receive from the world around you. Squirrels run up and down our front porch careless that you are so intensely watching them behind the window making sweet sounds at their every move. 

And your baby brother/sister simply moves, pressing knees, elbows and heels against my internal organs and layers of tissues possibly unaware of your little hands touching my skin searching for "baby" and for intimacy and love and connection. 

I am still amused by my ability to turn everything into my love for you. Can my heart possibly keep growing? My friend posted a picture of her daughter the captions said "My heart resides outside my body". I thought, how true! Is that because her heart once resided inside your body, I wonder?

I have one heart residing outside and a two residing inside my body. Is that why the way the sun feels today is ever so sweet?

That too shall pass

On the verge of newborn #2 I reassured by one thought: That too shall pass.

Some of us had less then ideal deliveries. It took us weeks postpartum to not be in pain and even longer to feel good. Some of us had problems nursing, withholding tears while adjusting nipple shields and watching that little month suckling on plastic instead of skin. Some of us had a hard time reconciling with all that love and exhaustion. All of us, on some level, felt overwhelmed by all that it was suddenly demanded of us.

I also hear many happy stories, like Nicole who I was cautious about going to visit after baby because I remember how I didn't wanted to see or entertain anyone for weeks and instead she visits me when on a walk in the park 5 days postpartum. (I could barely walk to the bathroom by then) Or Rebecca who threw a Baby BBQ with her daughter only 2 weeks old and had people partying at her house till waaaay past bedtime. 

I cheer those women on, with a pinch of envy nonetheless, but I know that that was not me and that is not a lot of other new moms who struggle daily to find the resources within to be the mother they thought they were going to be.

The number one hardest thing about being a new mom, to me, was this overwhelming sense of foreverness. Will I EVER sleep a full night again? Will I ever brush my teeth in the morning again? Will my body EVER stop hurting? Will this child EVER connect with me and I with him? Will I EVER have sex like I did before something went literally through me? Will I ever care about what I am wearing again? Will I ever stop resenting men for not having a uterus? I mean,... yea... all those thoughts and then some..

And what does every experienced mom, pediatrician, lactation consultant and midwives tell you? "This too shall pass".

So this time, while I know full well that it's not going to be easy, that labor and delivery can go in unexpected ways, that my loosing sleeps mean loosing sense, etc. I also know that THAT too DOES pass. And as I sit here blogging while my almost 2 year old guy is taking a 3 1/2 hr long nap I am painfully aware of how I will not have this luxury when baby bean comes but I will one day say "that too did pass".

on gratitude

My son received his first stitches the other day, and I learned a lesson.

Dad and I held his squirmy swaddled up body down while the doctor and the nurse in urgent care placed 3 stitches on his forehead..
As soon as we released him, still sobbing, he gave out a loud "Thank YOU!!!".

So there it was: the most appropriate thank you I have ever heard him say.

As I have posted before I am not for asking my son to say Please and Thank you. I model and explain and listen but don't usually demand of him to say the magic word. When I do it it's mostly because I regrettably fall into the established habit of asking children to be polite, and almost 90% of those times I am in public.. (that's for another post).

In Italian one of the attributes assigned to "good kids" is that of being educato. Which doesn't stem as in English from their literacy level or the years spent in college but it's about one's manners, compliance and obedience, and might be better translated as politeness (although one might argue that maybe schooling is designed around building obedient people and so the English and Italian terms are not that far off from one another). Of course this doesn't just have to do with how well they sit at the table but also how nice they might be strangers. However, behaving well in its intrinsic sense is far more than, and sometimes not at all like, politeness.

My goal is to raise a kind, empathetic, intelligent human being. One who uses reason and logic and critical thinking. One who develops, and eventually shows gratitude and sorrow and appreciation.
Before being educato/ polite, I'd like him to be aware of his and others' feelings and understand why politeness might have a role in kindness (knowing that it is not always the case).

So on gratitude I am giving myself the following pointers:

1. Model- When someone, including him, is kind or helpful to me I make sure to say "thank you" and I make sure to mean it, then explain why I am thankful.
2. Don't demand- I refrain from asking him to repeat it after me. I want him to gather, little by little, the intrinsic value of powerful words like this.
3. Don't take it personal- I remain patient because I am OK with him taking a long time to add a "please" after a request or not saying he is sorry for something, however wrong it might have been.
4. Be attentive- I watch for other ways his body is expressing the feeling. I am OK with him smiling back or frowning as a way to communicate such feelings. As people ask him to say Thank You, I might say "I saw you smiled and that is a good way for us to know how you felt, thank you."
5. Listen- what is said between the lines might be disclosing far more then we think. Ask clarifying questions and don't assume that because he is not saying much he is indeed not thinking much.
6. Connect the dots- I explain that saying the magic words is just another way to reach societal expectations, to please others in a conventional way... and there is value in that. As Alfie Kohn puts it "Don't say thank you because you are afraid I'll get mad at you if you don't; that's a terrible reason. Don't say thank you because it's polite; that's not much of a reason at all. Say thank you because of its effect on the people you are thanking". And to this I would add, say it when and because you mean it.

As and adult I can only imagine how complex and developmentally challenging the outward expression of feelings like gratitude and sorrow might be to a little person and I am there to walk him through those feelings, to guide and be guided into the world of inner value of language.

Though he is too young now to verbally reason with me I believe it's never too early to practice these dialogues with him. I see every instance as an opportunity to set the pathways of conflict resolution, critical thinking and perspective taking. One day it would become an old habit that we both resort to whenever needed.

 Because the lesson I am learning and sharing is that these words in and of themselves are meaningless unless they are truly felt like when he was finally freed of the medical torture he was subjected to.