new baby – Don't Gel Too Soon

On the Arrival of a First Child

Six years ago I wrote this piece to honor the pending birth of a friend’s child. It’s about the first days after the birth of a first child. Right now, each of my sons is expecting a child, so one more time, here’s the memory – with gratitude and love.

What an emotional shock it has been to write this. I need to start with that; the feelings, years later, are still there. Since this baby shower is for one of my favorite bloggers, and friends, I’m grateful to be part of it. Our task is to share those lovely early moments with our brand new children. That’s why I’ve added this, which may be the most perfect photo I own, because it says just what we all know.

The connection of a mother and newborn is so complete that it’s almost
impossible – even with writers as remarkable as this community — to describe.
At least I can’t find words that say what I know this photo says.

This is actually my second son, very soon after he arrived.

He’s almost 33 now and more extraordinary than even I, proud mama, could have imagined
that cold November day in Roosevelt hospital in 1979. He and his brother
both started off with beautiful souls though. They are beautiful still.

When I think of those early days, it isn’t all the getting up at night (although it could be) and it isn’t that I had so much trouble nursing that I needed to supplement (although it could be) and it isn’t the absolutely perfect terror that I might do them harm that accompanied the first days of their lives (although it certainly, indubitably could be.)

Nope. Here’s what I remember, and what I wish for the two of you and all you other moms and moms-in-waiting: it’s a cold winter night, maybe after about a week as the new parent of son number 1. It’s dark, but out the window you can see the boats going up and down the Hudson River (even though our windows leak so there’s ice on our windows, on the inside.)

You hear a cry and struggle out of bed, grab a robe, go retrieve this new little person from his crib, change him and move with him to the bentwood rocking chair (of course there’s a rocking chair) facing the window. And you hold him in your arms and you feed him.

The dark envelops you, the dim skyline across the river in New Jersey is the only light you have, except for the tiny pinpoints of light on the tug boats and barges as they make their way. And it’s silent. Not a sound. And, with this new life in your arms, you rock gently back and forth. The gift of peace of those nights in the rocker was so intense that as I write this, I can feel it. If I let myself, I could cry.

I remember watching my mother with each infant – can still see her face as she responded to them, thinking to myself then “Oh. This must be the way she was with me. How beautiful. How beautiful.”

And I remember this. My parents came to us very soon after our first son was born, helped put the crib together, celebrated with us. Late one night, as I stood with our baby in my arms, my dad walked into the room. Looking at the two of us, in perfect peace, he said to me “NOW do you understand?” Of course I did.

Mommy Wisdom Across the InterWeb

This week I took dinner over to a couple who just became parents of an infant son. It had been a long time coming and it was very moving to sit in their living room and sense the peace and – to be honest – blessedness of their parenthood. I started out "doing something nice" by taking dinner and of course got far more out of it myself. Being in that room is a memory I will cherish.

I told them about all the parenting tips offered in virtual baby showers I'd been part of, and about all the other posts I'd done about my children and my life as a mother. Then I kind of promised I'd send them the links. I figured, though, that as long as I was pulling it all together I'd make a little package for anyone else looking for the kind of parenting advice that A) might be really good and B) you can ignore without hurting anyone's feelings. So here they are — and as The Band wrote, "take what you need and leave the rest."

First of all, since you have a son, here's a Julie's gift: a blog list filled with wisdom — a virtual baby shower of advice and warnings about raising boys. There's a list of "boy songs" too. That's a bonus. If you want to read my contribution, it's here.

And what about just plain good advice about being a mom? That was the first shower, and it's full of funny and often very moving posts. Here's mine.

This one's kind of funny, and will look like it's a million years away – but it's fun: what to do when a second kid shows up and makes everything crazy all over again. I wrote for that one, too.

My favorite is the one whose subject was "memories of the first thirty days." It was an emotional whopper; once I started I had trouble stopping. Here's what I remember.

Finally, as you enter this amazing new life, a preview of what it's like when your kids are grown and gone. They're from December of 2006 and this past Thanksgiving. For some reason both struck a nerve with readers; it's an amazing adventure you've embarked upon – and it's glorious in all its phases. I wish you half the joy I've known.

ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL NEW MOM POSTS EVER

This is Catherine Connors, also known as Her Bad Mother. Mom to a preschool daughter and a brand new son, she’s a former professor of political philosophy and a blogging star. And this week, after the birth of her son, she wrote one of the most powerful posts I’ve ever read about being a mother, bearing a second child and being a woman with a heart and a soul and a body. Read it.