this week’s contributor is from courtney, of parent tango, a she says/he says blog about marriage, family, and parenting. in this post she writes about the transition of being a mother of one to multiples, and the beauty of it.
this week’s contributor is from courtney, of parent tango, a she says/he says blog about marriage, family, and parenting. in this post she writes about the transition of being a mother of one to multiples, and the beauty of it.
I know several women who are pregnant with their second child. All of them have expressed trepidation over how they will ever be able to love the second child as much as they love the first. I can relate. The mother of four and an only child myself, I am here to tell you, you can love all of your children hugely. And you’re doing a good thing by given them another person to share their young life with.
As an only child, I went along obliviously happy as a lark, not realizing how fortunate I was to benefit from the perks of having my parents’ full attention and the opportunities that went along with that. But when I was 10, my parents told me they had had another baby, born prematurely, two years after I was born. He lived only an hour. Besides the heartache of my parents which I couldn’t even wrap my young brain around, I was suddenly so sad for myself. I went from being contentedly solo in the world to feeling the absence of a sibling I had never known to miss.
From then on, whenever my parents were particularly annoying (they grew increasingly annoying as I entered my teen years, naturally), I wished my brother had been there to commiserate with. I felt lonely for the first time ever and wished he had been there to hang around with. I was changed. And it changed what I thought about having my own children someday.
I married a man who had wanted to have four children since he was a young child. I wasn’t so sure about that number, since four people sounded like a crowd to me! As life and my husband’s fear of a vasectomy would have it, we did indeed have four. For the most part, our kids are friends and certainly devote a lot of time to talking about how incredibly annoying their parents are. It must be great for them.
Sometimes I look at them and remember when I was like my pregnant friend, unable to imagine how I could possibly, ever, love another child as much as I loved my first child. So in the wee hours of the morning, before heading to the hospital in labor I whispered to my sleeping two-year-old, “I’m sorry.” Yes, I apologized to my first child for giving birth to my second! It seems so unfair to the second child and it was so untrue. I wasn’t sorry I was having him. And I wasn’t sorry I’d given her a sibling. Of course, I adored him heart and soul immediately. And my first child loved him too when she wasn’t hating him.
I often watch my children interact (with some envy) and see how their relationships with each other morph and change over the years. They all have different relationships and roles with each other. Most of the time, they probably don’t consider each other much of a gift. But they are, providing playmates, confidants, and exercises in all sorts of life skills.
So I take back the apology I made to my daughter 20 years ago. I had more than enough love to go around. And I gave them each other.
this is so beautifully written and i appreciate the honesty in it. i am a bit nervous about introducing another child into the mix bc i am having so much fun with miss ramona and am a little worried how a little squish is going to change our dynamic! however, i know that what these two siblings will do for each other will be immense. thanks, courtney!
this week’s contributor is april from our ship on the sea, a husband & wife writing/photography/videoography/event planning power team (and that’s just what they do for fun!). april approached me, curious if i’d be interested in a post about her experience with the unexpected things that happen after babies are born — the stuff they don’t necessarily tell you about and the stuff new parents often find themselves unprepared for; the stuff we often don’t talk about with everyone who asks us how wonderful, albeit tiring, our life with new baby must be. yes! i said. of course! mamas need to hear about other mamas’ struggles: it helps us feel less alone and can sometimes put our own struggles in perspective. it also can open up relationships to work through issues together and find support. read on!
The Unexpected
Even before she was born, Annie was unpredictable. At 38 weeks my doctor told us that she would be arriving within days (!!!) and to get everything in order. Jeremy and I rushed home, finished the last of the nursery preparation, I went on maternity leave, and my parents arrived flew in. Two long weeks later… the day my parents had to leave to go back to Nashville, I went into labor at the Denver Biscuit Company. (You better believe I stayed and ate the entire cinnamon roll). The doctor predicted a 9 to 10 pound baby. Annie was born at a sweet little 6 lbs 13 oz.
We prepared well to bring our baby home, but we weren’t prepared for a few things that followed once we got there:
We weren’t prepared for breastfeeding not to work out for me. I mean- I took classes! And watched DVDs! And had THREE books! That preparation and multiple lactation consultants couldn’t help the range of issues I experienced. I just finished nearly 7 exhausting months of pumping. I didn’t even get the chance to make anyone uncomfortable from breastfeeding in public. : )
We weren’t prepared for our baby to have severe colic. When she started crying for hours every night at three weeks old we assumed it was gas or just typical evening fussiness. By the third day we realized we were in for weeks of what we called “Scream Fest 2012”. Annie would start crying at 5 pm and end around 11. We did everything imaginable to make it stop. One exhausting Friday night we put Annie in the car around midnight to get her to stop crying. It worked! But then we were too afraid to stop driving. We drove around our downtown neighborhood until 2 am looking at all the couples out on dates, laughing and holding hands, probably all a little sauced. I wanted to scream “OH YOU JUST WAIT.”
After the colic stopped, we weren’t prepared for the chronic congestion to begin. It’s common for young babies to be congested, but when it didn’t stop, we knew something bigger had to be going on. We took Annie to the pediatrician more times than I can count, Urgent Care twice, and the ER on multiple occasions when her breathing was so labored that she refused to eat or sleep. No one seemed to find anything wrong, but as her parents, we knew there was an issue. It was heartbreaking and we felt defeated. Finally, an Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor confirmed what I already assumed- her adenoids we’re blocking her airway so severely that she struggled to breathe and eat, thus making quality sleep a joke… a super NOT funny joke. In six months time Annie had only slept for more than three hours ONCE. Thankfully, the end of the sleeping/eating issues is in sight – Annie is having her adenoids removed next month and we expect her issues to almost fully resolve. YAY!
Either most new parents really do have few issues, or those who do simply don’t talk about it. Well, I really wanted, maybe even needed, to talk about it. I thank Emily for giving me the space to do so, and I hope that someone out there finds this helpful. I want to share some of our own lessons learned, thoughts, and internet love with those who might be struggling:
Ask for help. Since Annie’s birth, Jeremy and I have had three dates. One given to us by friends for three hours, a quick dinner date, and a movie. I take responsibility for this because I didn’t feel comfortable burdening anyone. Looking back- what a ridiculous thought. So many people who love us were willing to help, and we could have used the time alone together. So- ask for help! If your friends offer, take them up on it – that very week! If your family lives out if town- show weakness! Say- “Um yeah… we’re LOSING IT OVER HERE, please come help. Thanks!” Most likely those new grandparents will be thrilled you asked and will get on that plane if they are able to.
Talk about it. Your honesty allows others to be free in sharing their own hardships. My greatest comfort in low moments has been finding those who will simply say “I know. It sucks. It will get better.”
Learn to let go and do what you need to do to get through it. Don’t beat yourself up over getting delivery because you’re just too exhausted to even think about turning on the stove. The same with the housework – nothing matters more than your well-being, especially not mopping. I wish we would’ve been more open to letting go of some things that weren’t working. Was giving Annie breastfeeding ideal? Yes. But should I have considered giving it up at the extreme point of exhaustion while Annie was sick and not eating any way? Yes- I should have been open to formula.
Give yourself the ultimate gift: Stop comparing yourself to others. When those well meaning friends with dream babies who sleep through the night at 3 weeks old (I hear these mystical babies exist?) start to offer advice about your difficult baby- it’s ok to stop them mid-sentence and say “We’ve actually tried it all.” and get off the phone. I’m not suggesting being rude, but if you have to hear another unhelpful suggestion again you might lose it even more severely. (So hey dream baby parents- it really is awesome that you’re having an ideal experience. Really- no sarcasm! It’s awesome! But your friends aren’t and they are struggling. So consider *not* offering advice. Instead say “What can we do to help?” Better yet- don’t even ask- just do it. Bring a meal over or take their baby for a walk and let your friends have an hour alone.)
With all this said, we didn’t expect that we’d be so happy to spend our weekends laying on the floor with Annie, singing songs and reading books. The delight in her laughs, the feel of her little hands rubbing over my cheeks and my husband’s beard – the best! Tonight we all sat together on the floor with baby sized instruments and had a mini-family band for a few precious minutes. I never expected to pray for time to stand still, even for just small moments like these.
-April Powell
P.S. I hesitated writing this post because I didn’t want to sound ungrateful. We recognize how fortunate we are. We have a happy baby girl, and her health issues can be fixed. We are lucky- we know this. However, when you’re in the muck, it all becomes relative. To those who might be struggling – I’m wrapping my arms around you in a huge internet hug. It gets better- I’ll swear on it.
thank you so so much, april. your honesty is brave and important. and i have no doubt this will have been something someone needed to read. parenthood is not easy. but its trials, as much as its blessings, need to be talked about amongst other parents and community members so that we can learn from and support those going through what all parents have gone through. (and how beautiful is that family?!)
if you are interested in contributing to A Denver Home Companion, please submit original writing (or ideas!) to emily [at] adenverhomecompanion [dot] com. though i may not be able to publish everything, i certainly consider all of them.
this week’s contributor is hannah from heart to heart. hannah is a fellow denver blogger and we met via another mutual friend who also is a denver blogger (man i love all these connections!). hannah’s blog is beautifully and genuinely written: a mixture of recaps of what her and her hubby have been up to (happy one year anniversary!), thoughtful musings on larger issues in life (faith, love, community), anecdotes, and personal goals. there’s a little bit of everything and she’s not afraid to speak honestly and i love it. today she gives some insider’s info on what has helped make south broadway, in the baker neighborhood of denver, her home. enjoy!
I walk out the door and down the street. As I walk, I pass a hipster strolling along with his dog and a girl pedaling down the road on her cruiser. A few homeless men are hanging out outside Badger’s Pub while the aroma of Famous Pizza lingers in the street air. The shops that line the streets of Broadway boast vintage furniture, thrift store treasures, used bookstores, boutique shoes and accessories, and everything in between. If you walk through the neighborhood behind the busy thoroughfare, the eccentric trim colors on the historic homes definitely get your attention and line the skies with every shade of the rainbow.
For this and a million other reasons, I love my neighborhood. Baker and South Broadway, you have my heart.
With its hipster reputation, you may think it’s pretentious or assuming; however, what I’ve come to love about my neighborhood is that everyone has a place here. Whether you’re a hipster or Hispanic, gay or straight, young or old, rich or poor, you will be represented and hopefully celebrated somewhere along the streets of Broadway.
If you happen to find yourself in the neighborhood soon, there are just a couple things you must do…
Stop off for a coffee and homemade pop tart at Sugar Bake Shop, making sure to write a love note or poem on their type writer before you head out the door.
Next, if you’re the beer loving type, go to TRVE (the local heavy metal brewery) and try their prehistoric dog- a salty wheat beer that is both delicious and surprising.
The Mayan is a great place to catch a flick if you’re in the mood. Built in the 1930’s and boasting some beautiful, ornate architecture, this is the place to watch that indie film other theaters may not show.
In search of beautiful fabrics? Looking to be inspired? Want to try your hand at sewing lessons? Need some handmade threads? Well, then you must check out Fancy Tiger Crafts and Clothing. Everything about this place screams inspiration.
Broadway would not be Broadway without Sweet Action Ice Cream. You should start with a sample of their famous Stranahan’s whiskey brickle and if you’re feeling really adventurous, try one of their less traditional flavors: kettle corn, nerds, or white Russian (just to name a few). The flavors are always changing so there will definitely be something new and awesome to try every time you go.
Next, there is Decade, the cutest boutique in all of Denver. Whether you’re looking for locally made jewelry, or vintage furniture, or the perfect gift for the woman or man who has everything, or unique home décor, or a new outfit for baby, this place has it all. Your bank account may take a blow after visiting, but I guarantee you will leave with a smile on your face and an arm full of treasures.
Now this is only part of all the wonderful things to do and see in my neighborhood, but really, most neighborhoods in most big cities have great coffee shops, and restaurants, and boutiques. All over Denver, there are wonderful neighborhoods that people love, so I guess what makes Broadway and Baker unique is the pride we feel to live here.
A neighborhood is made by the people who live in it, and the people who live in it are made by the neighborhood.
I have changed since living here. I see things differently. I see beauty in the alleys and the restaurants, in the diversity of the people who walk the streets, the graffiti and the artwork. All of it works together to create a place that I feel proud to call my home.
So even if you never visit (although I think you should) and even if you live on the other side of the country or the other side of the world, I hope wherever you are, whatever neighborhood you may find yourself in, that you feel at home, in love, and constantly overcome with goodness to celebrate.
Cheers, Hannah.
thanks, hannah! i don’t get down to south broadway a lot, so this little walking tour is quite helpful and interesting. thanks, also, for including your thoughts on home. it was inspiring to read.
if you are interested in contributing to A Denver Home Companion, please submit original writing (or ideas!) to emily [at] adenverhomecompanion [dot] com. though i may not be able to publish everything, i certainly consider all of them.
i am so excited to start my contributor series here on the blog! when i first did a call for contributors from readers, i had no idea what response i would get. i’m delighted to say: it was a good one! and i have so many interesting bloggers w totally different backgrounds from all over who will be sharing their stories, experiences, tips, and how-tos here on A Denver Home Companion over the next couple of weeks.
without further ado, i’m going to kick it off w a post by sarah, of crazy virgo, who is both my interwebs and IRL friend.
Hello. I’m Sarah. I found Emily through a common friend, and have been girl crushing on her ever since. She has graciously allowed me to guest write on her blog. I’m a mother to a 2 1/2 year old little lady. I’m a writer. I’m 35. I’m divorced. And with that intro, I’m going to dive in.
As a mother, I dream of what kind of legacy I’m going to leave my daughter, Sylvia. I gave her the name of a writer who greatly influenced my life, and as a writer, I want to influence her life, even if she’s not a writer. Constantly, I find myself thinking what life lessons she’ll learn from me. What she’ll tell her friends about me. As any mother, I want to make my daughter proud. Every day is conducted with her in mind, yearning to be her hero in everything I do.
I recently had a year of change. I’ll spare you the details, but 2012 was my worst and best year to date. I’m 35, so that’s saying something. I’ve done some living. I woke up on January 1 with a hangover, no job, divorced, and no immediate plans for my future. Not the absolute best way to start the year. But, I didn’t jump into a bottle or anything. I’m more of an optimist than that, plus all the bottles were empty, hence the hangover. I was, however, at square one, with what I thought would be a long uphill climb. Time to trade in the Blahniks for the Nikes. However, the year took off pretty fast. I got a great writing job with a start-up advertising agency, enrolled in a fiction writing class, and became a regular yoga class attendee. Then, just as I was hitting a stride, I hit a speed bump, tripped, skinned my knees, abruptly ended my contract job with the great start-up and found myself back at square one.
However, this time, thanks to yoga and breathing, I was smiling –skinned knees and all– while in square one, because this time I wasn’t stressing about what happened next. I wasn’t exactly sure why, but I guessed it had something to do with the sweet child sleeping in the room next to me. Then, it dawned on me one night while lying in bed letting my mind wander, that I had given my copywriting career in advertising 13 years. That’s a freaking long time. And, I realized that I just don’t care anymore. I don’t love it anymore. It doesn’t get me excited and amped up the way it used to. And, more than all of that, it wasn’t allowing me to enjoy the time with my daughter. The workload I had been carrying was weighing on me, sitting on my shoulders, forcing me to constantly think about all the work I had to do after Sylvia went to bed, instead of playing with her and soaking up every minute of her time between pre-school pick-up and bedtime. That is certainly NOT why I gave birth to this amazing creature. Wait, what? Was I having an epiphany?
So, I made a decision. If I am going to raise a little woman who is strong, assertive, ambitious, independent, passionate, and wise, then I’d better start making an example of myself by doing the same.
So I am.
I quit!
Well, writing for advertising, that is. I will write for myself. I will write things that please me and make me proud and happy. I’m going to actually write the novel I invested money and time into learning how to write. Ok, Ok. I can’t just quit cold turkey, unless of course a pile of money falls into my lap (that can happen, right??!?!). I have to take freelance jobs here and there to put organic food in sweet Sylvia’s mouth, and adorable Sweetwater sandals on her feet, but work isn’t going to be my driving force. She is.
With everything I am, and everything I do, I will ask myself, “would Sylvia be proud of me? Will I want to tell Sylvia about this one day?” Because I’m going to live more extraordinarily, instead of ordinarily. Yes, that will be hard, because some days a lady just wants to be tired and lazy and a lump on a couch. Fine. So be it. I’m sure Sylvia Plath and Gertrude Stein and Virginia Woolf took a day off here and there, and watched the flowers grow (because, of course there wasn’t any marathons of Sex and the City to veg out to, or season issues of Vogue to pour over). But, I want to make every day in this life count, for Sylvia and me, and us. I want my legacy for her to be a woman that is unafraid. I want everything I write to be useful for her, whether emotional or humorous or scary or truthful.
I may fail at being a novelist. But if I do, I will fail trying. And 50 years from now Sylvia will say, “my mom was crazy and awesome and totally fearless. What a woman!”
thanks, sarah! sweet sylvia is so lucky to have you as her mama.
if you are interested in contributing to A Denver Home Companion, please submit original writing (or ideas!) to emily [at] adenverhomecompanion [dot] com. though i may not be able to publish everything, i certainly consider all of them!
happy weekend! i’m working at the populist this weekend and then we have a superbowl sunday party at our friends’ house (we plan on queso and, seriously, a KFC game day bucket or two [must be all those ads on hulu that have convinced me this is a good idea]). i’m looking forward to an impromptu denver blogger meetup next week with the lovely ladies of the following blogs: the reverie blog, you are my fave, and then we saved, the petrichor, and the proper pinwheel. my guess is we’ll have too much fun.
elsewhere on the interweb:
- i love this cute new tumblr of fashionable babies.
- here’s a good source to make YOUR baby more fashionable.
- a cute valentine’s day idea: make someone happy letter via oh joy!
- i’d like to write more down on paper and not just on this blog. here’s a good source for journals.
- my brother always sends me the best articles: can everyone be smart at everything?
- and my friend, ashley, often runs these sorts of articles by me: train a parent, spare a child.
welcome
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