Short for What I’m Doing Now. Howdy all. Hope 2017 is treating you all right. So per usual, I’m the slacker blogger. Just to mark it down now, it’s March and this is my second post of the year. Yep, … Continue reading
I know that like many people, I am very excited to put 2016 in the rear-view mirror. My favorite descriptor of this year so far? “Poop-flavored trash fire.” And I’ll never stop laughing at it. For all of the crap … Continue reading
May of each year brings about a lot of celebration in my life. Between birthdays and Mother’s Day, I have a lot to be thankful for during this lovely spring month. This past weekend, both Mother’s Day and my husband’s … Continue reading
For Gabriel’s fourth birthday I decided to take a break from party planning and plan a trip to Disneyland instead. I figured this age is still young enough to enjoy all of the magic of the parks and old enough … Continue reading
I feel like I tend to stay pretty positive on this blog. That’s me talking like I post all that often…yeah, so there’s that. But when I do post I try to stay honest, and for the most part grateful.
The truth is, I am extremely grateful. Probably the thing I am most grateful for is a happy and (mostly) healthy child. On the whole, he gets sick much less that most kids, I believe. One of the perks of staying home. He’s battling bronchitis and some tummy issues these days, so it is not all sunshine and roses.
But I know that I have a lot. Namely, I know that without medical interventions, my child and I might not be here.
Recently, I read a post on a Facebook page that triggered something in me. It is something that I feel often but that I try let go because I know that is is a losing battle in many ways. The truth is that is shame.
Gabriel was born via c-section and if you are familiar with the “mommy wars” you will know that one of the Cardinal sins you cannot commit is delivering your baby via c-section.
What this post triggered is the thought that those who delivered vaginally…normally…properly…were superior. And that all women that have c-sections have the option. It is some elective surgery that we cruise into the hospital for and breeze through. So much nonsense.
I often scroll past these mommy war posts. Not giving them the time of day or the power. But because I clicked, and gave this post a cursory glance, I gave it power.
Part of my anger was the implication that somehow my child is less-than because of this one aspect of his life. He is somehow doomed to a life of illness and idiocy because he was able to be born at all. Why are children delivered via c-section fair game for such judgement? Will they start to study children conceived through IVF and scare their parents with stories of their fate?! Not likely. So disheartening that my child will have to forever be stigmatized because of how he was delivered. What a life!
After fuming and scrolling simultaneously, I started to scan the comments. Then I gave in. What I posted as my comment is below:
These articles are written like every woman has a choice. Like all c-sections are some selfish election by entitled mothers. They are not. They are often a concessions after all other interventions did not work. For those of us who just want the opportunity for our children to come into this world ALIVE and as safe as possible. People elect all kinds of interventions to get pregnant and we praise that. But as soon as we sacrifice our bodies for them to be born, by being sawed in half, only for the chance to enjoy that life, we are chastised, talked down to, and disrespected. So sick of it and these bullshit articles that try to make correlation and causation. Fuck off! My kid is the healthiest I know.
So that’s my rant. That’s my beef. I move through most days without this burden affecting me but some days, I just gotta say STFU to the mommy wars. Enjoy your babies and know that parenting is not a competition. So much of life is out of our control. Judgement serves no purpose and advances no cause. Focus on you and your own and view fellow mommies as commrades rather than competitors. We’re all in the trenches together doing the dirty work. Cheers to us all!
Yes, that is a play on a T. Swift song…what about it? Anyway, so here I am a fresh-faced 32 year old, ready to tackle another year. I will miss thirty-wonderful (31) because it still felt on the cusp of … Continue reading
Tomorrow my little snickerdoodle (cause he’s sugar and cinnamon) will turn three years old! Three years ago tonight, I was in the hospital, in annoying labor and was begging the night nurses to give me food. Baby G was not … Continue reading
The battle over the pacifier has been waged and won by yours truly! We are 90% in the clear and that is victory in my book. While he does still ask for his pacifier at nap and bedtime, there’s no … Continue reading
I have spent much of my life aware of my lack of emotional attachment. In reality, I was a terribly emotional and clingy child. But just like everyone else, there are events that change you in life. I can’t pinpoint what shut it down, or when it happened, but my detachment really peaked in my mid-twenties.
Enter motherhood. Nothing could have prepared me for the “feelings” that motherhood would bring to the surface of my being. It started in a hormonal way while I was pregnant, which is perfectly natural. But it is what happened post-pregnancy that has surprised me the most. The first six weeks postpartum are a grab-bag of emotions. Basically, on any day you will start crying at the drop of a hat for no apparent reason other than you become overwhelmed with the fact that you are a mother…I guess?? To this day, I couldn’t tell you why.
Flash forward to almost three years in. The things that get my emotions going are anything to do with parenthood. Today, I had one of those moments that I am certain pre-parenthood I wouldn’t have given much thought to after the fact. I was shopping at Lady Footlocker for a pair of running/exercise shoes because it has literally been like 10 years since I have bought a legit pair. There was a good amount of time that I was somewhat oblivious to the scene but after trying on some shoes with my back to the store, I turn around to see it is almost empty. The two store employees are standing there with a small family. An older woman is speaking Spanish to one of the employees and seems very distressed. Then a younger women comes in almost hysterical, speaking Spanish as well. They run out of the store. I get that something bad has happened but wonder if maybe her purse has gone missing, so I ask, “did they lose a purse or a person?” Apparently they lost her two-year old son in the mall. After seeing their faces, my heart sinks. I think of my own son, around the same age, off in another part of the mall with my husband.
I run out of the store because I don’t know what to do. But continuing to shop feels wrong. I call my husband. He found a lost boy in a store once. We both are keenly aware when we see unattended children. We figure if we can get to them first, some other creeper can’t in the meantime. But I digress. He is only a few stores away. I tell him the story and that if he sees a little boy, lead him back this way. One of the highlights of this story is how the customers in the store and even nearby banded together to look for this boy. They consoled his distraught family and ultimately, some girls from the store found him at the other end of the mall. For some reason this overwhelmed me. I started crying. For even that short amount of time, I couldn’t imagine how that must have felt. I saw myself in that mother and I had to do something because that is what any parent would want. Honestly, I thought the worst, which is that someone took him. I suppose my relief overcame me, when not only was he found but he has just wondered a little too far. I hugged her and told her how lucky she was!
I don’t know what my younger, childless would have done in the scenario. With any tragedy or sad story that involves children and families though, I hug my little a bit tighter. It can all be gone in the blink of an eye. Everyday that he us with is a gift and I have to recognize the big and small moments alike. I sit here, still emotionally shaken up because, while I relate because of the age proximity of our children, I couldn’t place myself in her shoes for one second without getting upset thinking about it.
That boy and his family will have a story to tell for a long time. And luckily for them, the story will have a happy ending.
If 30 doesn’t make you officially old, 31 has to, right?!
Another year in the books and I am pleased to say that 30 wasn’t that bad. Good job, got into grad school, and we didn’t move to a new place, so that’s a bonus. I’ve reconnected with old friends and made some new ones.
I look back on the things I’ve learned and how I’ve grown. Patience, understanding different viewpoints, maturity, power, and self-awareness. Things are areas that I have improved upon, and will continue to work on everyday.
I am lucky to have my husband with me through everything. He is strong, yet sensitive. Most importantly, he’s my partner. We really do complement each other well.
As with so much of the joy in my life these days, I owe so many smiles to my son. For a little over two years, he has really shown me what life is all about. Growing a person, raising a person, being someone’s rock, their strength, their world…nothing else compares to that. As long as I get to keep doing this mommy thing, I know I’ll be alright with getting older.