Motherhood. No Magic Formula Needed.

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On the birthday of my 26 year old son, I am overwhelmed by the years of moments in awe. Of who he is, who he is becoming, how much joy his life brings to me as my first born child and all of the stuff in the middle decorated with confusion, worry, panic, pain, laughter, exhaustion, unknown.  But did I mention joy?

He may have been my first and I may have been ill-prepared, but still, I was filled with just enough love to get me through. To get us through...

When I look at this picture of the first time I held him in my arms, my body aches. I can see the twisted emotions of joy and fear, all blending together as he looked deeply in my soul. I had waited my whole life to have this moment in time. Years of baby sitting. Playing school with the children I cared for. Playing mommy for a few hours a week while parents went to have their grown up time. It was all just to pass the time. 

Yet looking at this tiny and perfect face, I wondered if I was ready for the task at hand. What did I possibly know about having a child of my own? Surely I had read all the books, the magic ‘formula’s’ for how to bathe, feed, dress and let’s not forget the best sleep methods. I read about nightly wake ups and the terrible two’s...but what did I really know and how could these words on a page prepare me for what I needed when they didn’t know me? When they hadn’t ever met this precious baby?

 Was there really a magic formula that one person no doubt tried and tested that was going to work for the masses? Was the advise about food and sleep all we needed? Was that actually the secret sauce to a life filled with authentic happiness? I had trouble believing that when in fact nothing fit the text book about the way my baby arrived. 

He came into this world later than we anticipated. In fact, I would say he was pushed…maybe earlier than he would have liked. Two weeks after expected due date and he still wasn’t coming. But with a little injected medicine, and a full day of labor pains, there he was. Eight pounds of perfectness, a full head of hair, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to connect to my soul. And while I tried my best to believe what people had to say about how to do this thing called motherhood, those eyes told another story. 

I carried him incessantly in a ‘Sling’ that made me feel like a kangaroo and him feel like he was back in the womb. It was the one time I knew for sure he wouldn’t cry and that felt like a good solution. I carried him when I folded laundry, vacuumed, walked, talked on the phone. I sang to him and carried him. 

He will be spoiled, they said. 

I rocked him to sleep every night singing Sweet Baby James and gently put him in his crib. I stared at his beautiful face in wonderment, not distracted by my phone, or the tv. I just rocked him thinking how lucky I was and how much he needed sleep. I would then put him in his crib gently, doing my best to not wake him.  

He will never know how to self soothe, they said.

I woke when he did, feeding until he didn’t want any more and was falling back asleep. I woke again and again on demand, until he seemed able to drink enough to make it through the night. 

He will never sleep through the night, they said.

By 8 weeks he was sleeping peacefully until 5:30AM and we officially called it morning. I stopped reading about what I should do and instead listened intently for tired and hungry cues and responded the best I could. 

Now, witnessing him as a 26 year old beautiful human, I feel relieved I listened to my instincts and his. He grew into this amazing person. Caring about others, connected to the human kind, always looking for the good in people. Always working to be the best version of himself. He got A’s and B’s in school, didn’t cry over a few C’s and somehow understood that life was to be lived. He enjoyed learning music and played sports and was the one that supported me as he left the nest for Cornell. He went on to work for Amazon, Google and The New York Times, designing a life that gave him joy and balance, so similar to the life I had worked hard to have for myself. 

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I remain in awe of motherhood to this day and am unclear if there is such a thing as a magic formula for babies. But that perhaps the only real magic is in the mysterious and amazing gift of creating another human being…a unique being unlike anyone else. And then having the opportunity to be the mama.

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