Life Lessons of a New Mother

I had no idea what to expect from motherhood, and it has surprised me on many levels.  Being a mother has brought me to my knees and humbled me every day in the last 6 weeks; it has shown me parts of myself that I didn't know exist and it has taught me lessons I didn't know I needed to learn.  Leo and I just had our 6 week check-up, so in honor of that small milestone, here are a few of those lessons I've learned about life and myself:

- There is no shame in asking for or accepting help.  We can't do life on our own and for some reason, I don't like to lower my pride to admit that.  Sometimes we cling to individuality rather than embrace community.  But whether it was a friendly stranger in the airport, or my family helping me at home, I don't think I would have kept my sanity without the help of others, and I've learned that it blesses them to help me.  We are connected and dependent on one another - and that's a very beautiful thing.

- I must redefine success and productivity.  I'm a product of a Midwestern farming family, where work ethic ranks high on our list of moral values, so on the days when I only eat, sleep, and nurse, I can feel like a useless human for not producing anything the world views as meaningful.  But with every day that passes, caring for my son seems more and more like the most important job in the world and I never thought I would be the kind of woman to say that.  I now see success from a completely different viewpoint.

- Accept and lean in to discomfort.  Resisting makes it worse.  I've learned that I can either complain about waking up in the middle of the night to nurse or I can lean into what is and simply accept this as a phase of life.  Sometimes I watch movies in the middle of the night while I feed my son instead of watching the clock and wandering when I can climb back into bed.  Even as I write these notes, Leo started fussing.  Instead being annoyed at the disruption, I decided to dance with him, which is way more fun!

- We don't need a lot of stuff.  I think we've over-complicated child rearing.  The Baby Gear World is out of control.  Since when did raising a child require so many things? I've tried to take some cues from African mothers who use much less and I ask myself if each purchase is really necessary.  Often, the answer is no.

 
 

- Persistence pays.  I knew I wanted to breastfeed, but I didn't know that it would be so hard at first.  It was painful and frustrating, emotional and difficult.  My midwife's assistant told me it gets better at 2 weeks, but right when I clocked 2 weeks, I came down with mastitis...twice.  I was nervous to nurse in public and Leo is still learning to latch on his own, but we have come so far.  It's beginning to feel like second nature.  When I reflect on my favorite moments with Leo, I realize that many have happened while nursing.  I'm proud of myself for not giving up and for overcoming those difficult days.

- Confidence and boldness are a must.  It's amazing how many people want to tell me how to raise my baby.  Relatives, medical professionals, and even complete strangers all have strong opinions on everything from the use of pacifiers to how I should hold my baby.  Without confidence in myself and trusting my own intuition, it would be easy to feel undermined every step of the way.  And without the boldness it requires to say, "Thanks, but no thanks" and "Actually, I know what I'm doing," I would get steamrolled by others every single day. 

- Maturity requires the ability to hold space for more than one emotion.  Some friends didn't want to "bother" me with hardships they were facing in life, afraid they would "bring me down" during the expectant last weeks of pregnancy and the joyful first weeks of motherhood.  But my emotional state is not a singular measure.  I can walk with others in their pain while still feeling gratitude for this new joy in my life.  And when I am hurting, I know I can rejoice with others in their victories.

- Pleasing others is not a virtue.  It's a journey I've been walking for quite some time - learning to stop pushing myself so hard just to please others.  Saying no to others is a possibility and is often the best thing to do.  I turned down quite a few anxious friends who wanted to visit or have catch-up phone conversations in the first weeks after Leo was born.  Every single time, it was hard to tell them no, but it has been a great lesson in the beauty of self-care and putting myself first in my life.

Cravings

People often ask me if I’ve had any cravings in pregnancy and, knowing they are referring to food cravings, my response has always been, “Actually…not really.”  Although this is true when it comes to food, what I don’t mention is that I have had many cravings, just not culinary ones.

I’ve tried to listen to these cravings, nonetheless.  Some are new and some are not surprising, but I trust them inherently and have tried to hold a sense of curiosity about where they will lead.

I have craved…

...water.  I hardly ever swim, but I went to the pool a couple times a week in my second trimester.  There was something about immersing myself in water that felt natural and soothing and I couldn’t ignore it.  Sometimes I wouldn’t even swim.  I would just float, look up at the sky, and appreciate the water encompassing me.  Staying in my family's cabin on our pond has been a major bonus.

…books.  I spend some time in the mornings and evenings reading, and usually some stolen moments throughout the day.  Although this isn’t so unusual, I have sped through more books than normal and can’t help but buying more!

…pottery.  I haven’t thrown pottery since high school and even then, I took only a couple of classes.  But for some reason, I’ve badly wanted to get my hands on some clay and mold it into a form.  I finally found a pottery class at a local high school and although the teacher isn’t very enthusiastic about helping a newbie and I’m the ultimate novice, my craving is being fulfilled.  The first class left me frustrated and I thought twice about going back, but this week I tried to let go of expectation and just focus on the feel of the clay, the spinning of the wheel, and how the form changes under the pressure of my hands.  Being present in it was somewhat hypnotizing and it was just what I wanted.

…breath.  I catch myself wanting to breathe deeply.  The best way I can explain it is I have wanted to drink in air, even to chug it!

…knitting.  I finally picked up knitting again for the first time in years and I carry my projects with me nearly everywhere I go, sneaking in a few stitches or rows in car rides, during coffee house chats with friends,  and while watching TV or listening to a podcast.

 
 

Call me crazy, but I find these cravings as strong as I’ve heard other women explain their food cravings during pregnancy.  I’m as ravenous about finishing a book as some women are about a peanut butter sandwich with pickles.  Instead of sending my husband out at midnight to pick me up something from Taco Bell, I stay up half the night just to complete part of a knitting project.

I’m not sure what will happen to these impulses once the baby comes, but I have appreciated the opportunity for the creativity and health they have brought into my life during this season.

Dying for New Life

I'm rarely in the US for the changing of seasons, so this week, as the snow melts and the weather starts to warm up, I find myself drinking in this transition into Spring. 

A couple of days ago, I walked around our yard to see what beauties of nature I could find.  I noticed a few straggling leaves on each tree - leaves who had refused their time of death in Autumn and instead clung to their life as they knew it on the limb. They had somehow made it through a brutal winter, still stubbornly hanging on.  But new life is coming soon, and these old guys are in for a big wake-up call when they'll be forced to finally give up the fight and let the new buds spring forth in their place.

I also have a new life on the way, set to arrive in about 6 weeks.  I've noticed patterns in my dreams, revealing the fears tucked away in my subconscious about all I must die to in order to let this new life really thrive.  Even as I write a list in my journal of these things I know I must let go, I feel a deep resistance to it all. To...

Letting go of a spontaneous life. Letting go of my precious sleep. Letting go of my body as I know it. Letting go of my youth.  Letting go of how I desire to use my time.

The wise have always told us that Death is always required if New Life is to enter, and all of nature seems to be telling me this, too.  I cherish the fact that my baby will be born in Springtime and in the Easter season - a whole season dedicated to New Life after a winter of hibernation and death.

“Love in its fullest form is a series of deaths and rebirths. We let go of one phase, one aspect of love, and enter another. Passion dies and is brought back. Pain is chased away and surfaces another time. To love means to embrace and at the same time to withstand many many endings, and many many beginnings – all in the same relationship.”
— Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves
 

So I also write down all that will be brought forth if I choose to let go of the old and usher in this New Life.  I will gain...

A kind of love I've not yet known.  A growing relationship with Eric. An opportunity to question and learn and grow in myself. A connection with every other parent on the planet. An added piece of my identity.

I know I must let go in order to gain.  I look inward and tell myself not to be like those stubborn leaves, hanging onto their old lives and refusing to fall into what is.  So I let myself die to the old things in order to give birth to something entirely new.

Is there something you must die to in order to bring forth something new in your life?

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them.”
— Ecclesiastes 3:1-5

Hibernation

The last couple of weeks have been full of great people - so many great people!  We've hosted friends from Africa, connected with friends from the Middle East and India, and caught up with friends from across America.  We heard inspirational speakers, met new people, and I've had deeply touching one-on-one conversations with many.  These people have energized my spirit and I find myself jotting notes of wisdom I garner from them as I go.

As much as I've been energized inwardly, I came to the end of my time in Washington, DC physically drained and exhausted.  My body, often the wiser one, has told me to stop with the onset of a cold.

So now, hibernation.

I found my way up to Maine in between winter storms and I'm now staying in a cozy home, looking out my window at over 3 feet of snow.  I'm doing a training in Conscious Social Change with a partner organization, Global Grassroots.  The home of Gretchen, the founder, is filled with handmade furniture, plants, books, and memorabilia from her travels around the world, all making it feel like a semblance of my own home.  Our training involves, among other things, elements of self-care and mindfulness, bringing me back to a sense of balance and rest, both of which I badly need.  I now let myself tune in to the winter season, shut myself into this comfort, and hibernate from the world for a bit.

Here are some photos and bits of wisdom I've collected from all those lovely people over the last couple of weeks:

“Sharing achievements creates competition, but sharing vulnerabilities creates relationships.”
“Prayer is great for bringing inner peace and strength, but it doesn’t change anything outside. It is up to us to act and make change from that inner place.”
— The Dalai Lama
“The word ‘agree’ comes from the same word as ‘symphony.’ It is not the same instruments that are playing, or even the same notes, but they are still making something beautiful.”
 
 
“You can do more than you think you can, but it’s not always wise. (In regards to pregnancy, parenting, and balance with other areas of life.)”
“We should not develop an attachment to one’s own faith...we think we only need one truth, but we need a concept of several truths.”
— The Dalai Lama
 
 

The End of Life as I Know It

Today is the end of my life as I know it in our cozy house in a Kampala suburb.  We depart in a few hours for America and when I come back in about 5 months, our lives will have changed in a major way with a little new addition to our family.

The last few weeks, between our return from India and our departure for the US, have been full of logistical planning, home improvements, and preparing for our leave at work.  But it's also been full of confronting my fears about motherhood and having those fears comforted by the gentle kicks and waves inside my tummy that surprise me throughout the day.  I leave Uganda feeling full of support from the incredible women in my life.  Amongst all I have to pack in one suitcase for the next 5 months, I've found room for the beads these women gave me at my birthing blessingway to cling to during labor and room for their notes of love and affirmation, wanting to keep them with me and, in times of doubt, refer to the encouragement of those who know me well.

The last few days have been full of anxiety as I try to think through every detail of our travels - 5 weeks around the East Coast until I land at home in Indiana to await the birth.  Philadelphia, New York, Washington DC, Annapolis, Portsmouth, and Boston are all around the corner.  I have list upon list in a small notebook, reminding me of all that must be done, bought, and packed, all I must prepare for in those travels, for the cold weather, for the weeks after the birth.  My mind has been racing with these plans and I find myself waking in the middle of the night, thinking of another detail I must remember.

But today is different.  I truly feel ready.  I'm ready to step onto the plane, into my third trimester, and onwards toward a huge life change.  I've prepared well and I know deeply that all will be perfect, so now it's time to enjoy the present moment, to soak up these last few hours in my home.  Even with no power and no water at my house, in this moment I stare in appreciation at the tropical birds outside my window and listen to the chickens cluck beside the garden.  The planning is in the past and big changes are in the future.  The Now is perfect, as it moves slowly toward the end of life as I know it.

For a New Beginning
By John O'Donohue

In out-of-the-way places of the heart,
Where your thoughts never think to wander,
This beginning has been quietly forming,
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire,
Feeling the emptiness growing inside you,
Noticing how you willed yourself on,
Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety,
And the grey promises that sameness whispered,
Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent,
Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
And out you stepped onto new ground,
Your eyes young again with energy and dream,
A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not yet clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is at one with your life’s desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure;
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.