Just me and baby

My Dad's mom passed away last week. It wasn't necessarily unexpected and she lived a long and good life, but it was somewhat sudden. Gail and I decided it was a good idea for me to fly out all the way to the other coast with Ira to be with my dad during this time, but that it wasn't possible for our whole family to make a sudden cross-country trip. So here I am, spending about 5 days with my parents and with extended family, some of whom I haven't seen in years. It has been a sad but also in some ways a happy time, sharing memories and reconnecting, and there's something beautiful about having a baby here when we are marking life's passing.

But that's not really what I came here to write about. We decided Ira would come with me primarily due to feeding since I'm his primary (but not his only) milk supplier, and so that Gail would have some hope of both working and successfully holding down the home front without going completely batty. So, here I am, spending one week as Ira's primary parent.

At home, neither of us is a "primary" parent to our kids. Or rather, maybe it's more accurate to say that we are both primary parents, and we endeavor to structure our priorities, life and time to make this a reality. There have been times when this has set us apart from our parenting peers (in both good and sometimes uncomfortable ways), far more often than being a two-mom family.

So this week, for pretty much the first time in the over three years that I've been a mom, I'm living a little bit like "everyone else." I'm making all parenting decisions regarding Ira's feeding/sleeping/bathing/etc. I'm changing pretty much every diaper and all feedings are coming directly from my body. I'm up every night for every waking and feeding. This is not to say I don't have help. There is plenty of family around, and my parents love nothing more than spending time with Ira. They've both spent plenty of time both playing with him and soothing him, but it is just that, it is only "help."

I'm actually really enjoying parts of this experience. Ira is proving to be adaptable and good natured in pretty extreme circumstances. He seemed to think that our nearly 12 hour stint in various airports and airplanes to get here was just one big chance for him to make new friends. As I whisked through the subway and airports, successfully managing gear and baby, I enjoyed feeling kind of like super-mom. I'm enjoying the simplicity of feeding him without ever needing to pump. I love that all the complements about what a beautiful and delightful baby he is are coming straight to me (who wouldn't love that?). I'm somewhat surprised to find that I'm understanding a little about why other moms might not want to really share parenting. At least when parenting one good-natured 4 1/2 month old, who also happens to be my second child so I'm not a giant bundle of nerves, it's kind of nice to be the only "Mommy."

But as much as I'm loving parts of this experience, mostly I'm missing home. I'm missing Leigh with a physical ache, and am worried that this trip will lead to a rocky transition home. I'm missing Gail, which feels a little like missing the other half of my brain. I'm really really missing that sleep I get every other night at home (which is probably dropping my brainpower by another half). I also know that soon, babies become toddlers, and that I (in particular) need a true teammate for that. I also know what it's like to be away from your baby, since I took a conference trip when Leigh was this age, and so I'm sad for Gail, knowing she is missing him deeply while I'm having this time with him.

When I called home earlier today and got the machine that said "You've reached Gail, Lyn, Leigh and Ira" it almost made me cry. I love my family so much. I love our whole complete four-member family and am so glad that soon I'll be home, and we'll be all together again, even if that means Gail gets to take some credit for how fabulous Ira is, and that sometimes I have to pump.

Travel update and cosleeping fantasies come true

Thanks all for the kind comments to my whiny post, especially to oneofhismoms for the one about only really needing diapers.

We just got back from visiting my extended family out west. My family is spread all over the country, so my parents/sisters and our attendant spouses/kids make a concerted effort to all get together every year and a half. We had 8 grown-ups (two of us pregnant, my sister is due with cousin #5 in September!) and 3 kids under 4 coexisting pretty happily under one roof last week. We came home feeling surprisingly relaxed, despite Gail having to fight off yet another bug while we were away. Leigh absolutely loved spending time with her cousins/aunts/uncles/grandparents, regaling them with her songs and stories, putting my sisters' childhood dolls down for lots of "naps," and creating elaborate scenarios with matchbox cars with her cousins. We really wish they weren't all so far away the rest of the time.

We got back to our house on Sun at 6:30am after a red-eye flight. Leigh was a total trooper all night and when we finally got home, I asked if she wanted to sleep a little on her bed. She said, as is her usual response, "No, I don't need to sleep." Then I asked if maybe she wanted to lay down with me on our grown-up bed just to "rest." That was acceptable to her, so we both tucked in and within 2 minutes we were both out cold.

Before Leigh was born, I had some seriously overdeveloped fantasies about how fabulous cosleeping would be. I vividly imagined snuggling with our peaceful infant, who would of course later become an adorable cuddly toddler. We didn't even buy a crib before she was born. The reality of cosleeping in our family was not nearly as nice as my fantasies. As in, it was more or less impossible, and no one slept at all. We bought that crib a couple months later.

But apparently all I had to do to get my fantasy to turn out was drag our 2 2/3 y.o. across the country on a red-eye flight, because that morning nap was pretty much just like I had imagined. Leigh was snuggled up next to me, we were both sleeping soundly, and when we woke up 3 hours later, she just wanted to stay under the covers with me and talk about a million different things. That was the the first and may be the last time such a thing will happen, but I'll take it.

Apparently it's "revelations-while-hypnotized" week

To follow up on Gail's hypnosis-induced surprise insight, I had one at our last class as well. At various points our instructor has asked to imagine being in some lovely place, perhaps someplace in nature. I seem to have settled on this spot that my Dad and I backpacked to in Colorado over 10 years ago now (I can't believe it has been that long!). The weather was perfect and summer wildflowers were blooming everywhere. You could look from our tent across a small clear pond, and up out of a small bowl shaped valley to a rocky ridge that marked the continental divide. One morning we woke to see two large stags standing in dramatic profile at the top of that ridge.

I think I was about 19 when we made that trip. I was very surly, pining for my fling-of-the-moment girl back home, and still in the very early part of the awkward and painful decade of parental relations that followed my coming out (we've since worked things out pretty well and they love Gail to bits, but that's a story for another day). My dad, though, in his own somewhat awkward and stilted way, was taking this all in stride. In retrospect it is rather sweet. As a parent now, I have a bit more empathy for how strange I must have seemed to him, and how desperately far away. But outdoorsy things we could do. Of his three daughters, I've always been the most game for outdoor adventures, and at some point I became his most likely companion on such outings. We could plan a trip, walk in the woods, set up camp and cook dinner in pleasant company, without too much difficulty and tears, so that's what we did.

I found myself trying to edit the painful parts of this memory from the image, and as part of that, I found myself trying to remove my Dad. He didn't really fit in with the whole natural relaxation for birth theme (it seemed like there shouldn't be any other people, maybe just those flowers and the pond), but I just couldn't quite get rid of him. At some point I realized he might be sticking around for a reason, that there was some piece of me that really wants to have my father at our birth.

It will never happen. My parents live a 5 hour plane ride away. My father is a family doctor with a schedule to keep (he has actually caught many a baby). We'll be trying very hard not to schedule anything birth-wise, which would mean he'd need plan to be out here for weeks to be sure of being here, and in many ways I'd rather not have either of my very medical parents (my mom is an advanced practice nurse) anywhere near our attempt at a home birth. I can't imagine going through the decisions we had to make when Leigh was in the process of taking her own sweet time to join us with my parents anywhere nearby, even though I do love both of them dearly.

But it does seem somehow nice that my Dad, who I'm often guilty of kind of forgetting about and putting off to the side, has found his way into this particular corner of our preparations. He's a quiet and thoughtful man. He thinks deeply and conveys his thoughts slowly, often getting a bit run over in a family that contained four extremely opinionated and outspoken women, and now also contains 3 kids-in-law and 3 (soon to be 4) boisterous grandchildren. I may be guilty of sometimes failing to appreciate his peaceful and calming presence, and unfailing love, but I will endeavor to carry it with us as we move forward, even if he won't be here in person.

A personal plea

I Recently sent this note to a few members of my loving but quite conservative extended family. We'll See. To those of you in CA, we're cheering you on (and did send cash).

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Dear Family--

I have debated extensively whether or not to send a note to my loved ones in California. I generally try to steer well clear of political discussions with family, but this one hits too close to home. After the warm welcome you extended when we visited in June, I want to think
that you will already be remembering me and my small family as you get to Proposition 8 on your ballot, but I know that the issue of same-sex marriage is a difficult one, for many reasons, so I would like to remind you what a difference it would make for you to vote No on Prop 8.

Gail and I have been blessed to have the protection of state marriage rights in Massachusetts. Because we are legally married, I had parental rights as one of Leigh's moms as soon as she was born, even though Gail gave birth. We still had to complete an expensive second parent
adoption, as well as additional legal papers (like powers of attorney, and healthcare proxys) to protect us when we travel, but it was such a reassurance to know that we didn't have to worry about the legal integrity of our family at the same time we were struggling to adjust to life with our newborn over two years ago, and to know that families like mine are now treated fairly as a matter of routine by the legal system in our home state.

Marriages like ours have been legal in Massachusetts for over 4 years now. Despite the dire predictions, life has gone on completely as normal, only now families like mine are treated with respect and acceptance. Many of our legal and administrative nightmares have gone out the window, as we can now simply and easily explain our relationship to our employers, our friends, our family...and even the government workers at the social security office. It is difficult to express what a profound sense of relief it is not to have to fight to protect our family at every step of the way. We still face many legal hurdles, particularly at the Federal level, but state marriage rights have provided our family with much needed stability and recognition.

I have heard, even all the way out here on the East Coast, campaigning saying that marriages like mine must be banned in order to protect California children. I ask you to remember that the children who will be truly effected by Proposition 8 are those like my own daughter, Leigh, children who will have a much more stable and secure family if their parents retain their right to marry.

I know this is a difficult issue. I know this is a huge shift for us culturally. I've seen and understand what a profound task it was for my parents to grow to accept and embrace my family. I deeply understand the combined sense of conviction and protection that might lead you to cast a vote that would hurt families like mine. But I ask you to remember, your marriages will remain solid and your children will remain safe if you vote NO on 8; the only real effect will be to make thousands of families headed by loving same-sex couples, families that already exist, legally safe and secure.

Respectfully and with love,

Lyn