Joining the Mom Club

  For the longest time, access into the Mom Club seemed highly exclusive and almost impossible. It frustrated me to no end to read in trash magazines about shows like Teen Mom, with young, immature girls gaining access to the “club”, and feeling like here I was completely set for a baby – loving partner, house, baby appropriate car, good job with maternity leave – and yet there was no baby on the horizon. My life seemed set and yet there was this gaping hole that refused to be filled. It wasn’t something you could easily talk about with others. I dreaded running into friends I hadn’t seen in awhile and being asked the seemingly innocent question, “So, what have you been up to?” Somehow, the response, “Oh you know, just trying to create a new life and failing miserably”, just didn’t seem like an appropriate answer. So I stuck with the safe answers, work, holidays, etc., when all my mind was focused on was getting pregnant. There was also no escaping the other dreaded question – “So, when are you guys having kids?” It always felt like a sledgehammer to the gut when someone innocently asked this actually very personal question. Once that ring is on your finger and the years start passing by, the questions start. Even people that I would consider barely acquaintances at work somehow felt that it was their right to know where my life was headed. To be fair, I know I’ve done the same thing in the past. It’s culturally appropriate to assume that first you get married and then soon we should be hearing the pitter-patter of little feet and therefore, fair game to bring up in small talk at work. Somehow, responding, “Do you have a couple hours?” just doesn’t work in passing conversation. Knowing what it feels like to be on the other side of this question when it’s the last thing you want to talk about, I now only ask if someone’s pregnant if it’s blatantly obvious – like she’s about to give birth in a couple months. You also don’t want to run the risk of asking a woman if she’s pregnant when it’s just weight gain. Also happened to me and also felt like a sledgehammer in the gut and also not okay to respond, “Would really like to be, but no, this is just depression weight gain”.

  So after our failed attempts at IVF, Markus and I started looking at adoption. It had always been in the back of my mind as a wonderful option, but somehow we started down the IVF path and it was difficult to stop once we started. After another failed attempt, I was devastated at feeling like I may never have that experience of holding my baby for the first time. Then I started looking at people’s adoption stories on youtube and I realized that Markus and I could have that experience, it might just look a bit different. Fast forward a year and finally Isaac came into our lives. Suddenly life felt complete. I had joined the Mom Club and I couldn’t be happier.

  Joining the Mom Club is like getting a new job with a crazy steep learning curve. Here are some of my learnings and experiences from the past eight months with Isaac:

                                                                                                      

I’ve found out that when babies start on pureed food, pureed butternut squash looks very similar going in as it does going out. As does bananas and papayas – yuck!

I’ve soothed my baby to sleep in a malarial zone hoping that my bare arms and legs would mean that I was the sacrificial lamb. Usually, I’m the best bug repellent for all those around me as mosquitoes seem to love my blood, so I was fairly confident that Isaac would be okay. One of the sleep books I read suggested training your child to have a “lovely”, a soft, cuddly item that comforts them as they fall asleep. Isaac had his bunny and I had my AfterBite gel. I kept it beside my pillow so I could apply it to the bites under the safety of my mosquito net before I drifted off to sleep. I’m very thankful that those $5 a pop Malarone pills did the trick.

I’ve changed multiple blowouts, once during a power outage, and wondered many a time how such a small person can produce so much poo.

I’ve experienced the joys of watching my child develop new skills and funny habits. There was the surprised look phase which moved onto a pouty face phase (I knew I should be taking him seriously, but honestly it was just pretty funny and cute). There was the “let’s make raspberries when drinking a bottle” phase which I’m happy to say is over as it was a very wet and messy affair. There was the crawl around with a Wubanub hanging out of his mouth phase (see photo below for explanation), which again made me laugh. He’s now in a stage where whenever he sees our dog, Gibson, he either makes little barking sounds or pants like a dog. Very cute! These phases are so fleeting that I try to enjoy them as much as I can when they are happening. The good thing is that he always seems to move onto something else that’s just as cute and funny. 

The surprised face

Isaac with his Wubanub - an elephant attached to a soother, what a great idea!

I’ve felt the clench of my heart as Isaac snuggles up to me and know that I’m so lucky to be able to have this time with my little man. 

I’ve come to develop new measures of success in a day. Whereas before it was number of patients seen, performance reviews done, reports written, and projects completed, now it’s baby happy and well-rested, mama happy and well-rested (I’m glad to finally be able to say that Isaac sleeps through the night), nutritious food ready for Isaac, and time spent outdoors.

I’ve experienced the guilt and worry that apparently correlates strongly with motherhood.

I’ve come to understand intimately why someone would write the book, “Go the F_ _k to Sleep”. For a good laugh, listen to Samuel L Jackson’s reading of the book on youtube.

I’ve learned that motherhood brings with it extreme emotions – love, happiness, bliss, but also frustration (see previous point for example).

I’ve come to realize that for the foreseeable future, my purse/bag will no longer be my own. Somehow, I can always find any number of teething toys, but when I really need to find my keys, they are either nowhere to be found or at the very bottom of my bag.

I’ve discovered that there is a black hole where all soothers disappear to. I’ve also felt the beginnings of panic when I can’t find a soother before bedtime. I realize that this may be a sign of addiction, but I’m choosing to ignore it right now.

The above experiences are like badges of honor that I proudly wear. Some I’ll be happy to put behind me as Isaac gets older (diaper changes), for sure. But others I’m sure I’ll miss as Isaac’s independence grows. Despite the challenges, I’m so happy to finally be a member of the Mom Club. I hope that I will remember though what it felt like to be on the outside of this club.

  I’ve also quickly learned that just like the sandbox at the playground there are bullies in this club. There are moms whose subtle comments, while seemingly supportive, are meant to cut you down and build them up. Those who make motherhood and childrearing a competition – how far will you go to be a “super mom”? Working in healthcare with a predominately female staff has prepared me well for these subtle attacks. I have always wondered why as women we are our greatest enemies at times. Fortunately, I know lots of members of the mom club who are wonderful people. Who will honestly tell you not only the joys, but the challenges that they have experienced so you know you’re not alone. Those who when you are at your weakest, will admit that they too have been there and help you realize that this too shall pass.

  So, while my competitive spirit always wants to push to the extreme, I’m going to admit here, in writing, that I’m not going for the title “super mom”. I’ll leave that to the Martha Stewarts of the world. I’ve decided that I’m going to aim for the title “good mom”. So that might mean that Isaac won’t have the best, homemade Halloween costume and that there won’t always be the smell of freshly baked cookies in the house, but it will mean that I will love him and support him while also trying to take care of myself. Although secretly, I do hope that one day in the future I get to open a gift from Isaac on Mothers’ Day and inside the wrapping I find one of those tacky mugs that says “World’s Best Mom”. I’ve decided that the only opinion that I’m really going to worry about when it comes to how I’m being a mom is the one that matters most – Isaac’s.