Children Learn What They Live Part 1

At fifteen life had taught me undeniably that surrender, in its place, was as honorable as resistance, especially if one had no choice. – Maya Angelou

I remember, as Zach approached two years old, I was very pregnant with Jake and I was scared.  I was scared that this little family, Pop, Zach and I was going to change when our next baby was born.  We had such a perfect little threesome. I didn’t know how our little family would change but I knew it would and that scared me.  We had everything going for us, life was good.  Why on earth did we rock the boat by having another child?!  We were able to give so much time and energy to Zach and now we were going to have to balance our time and energy and love with another child.  I didn’t know how that was going to go.  

And then Jake was born.  And when Zach climbed into his crib to spoon with him as a newborn, I knew why we had a second child and I knew why we would have a couple more.  

Then, you boys started getting married and I was scared.  I was scared that this little family, Jon, you boys and myself was going to change when the daughter in laws joined it.  We had such a perfect family and I was worried that when the daughter in laws started coming they would interfere, it would tip the balance.   We had everything going for us, life was good.  Why on earth did we have to add daughter in laws?  How could they possibly fit in?  For goodness sake, we’re a “guy family” — this will never work.  But then I got to know my daughter in laws and I knew this was going to work.  Much to my surprise I have already grown to love them as if they were my own.  I enjoy them and worry about them just like I do you boys.   And just like every one of you when you each joined the family, they didn’t take anything away from the family, they added to it.  

I thought that once you all left home and were on your own, supporting yourselves and your families I could quit being the mother and stop worrying.  But that all went to hell when our first grandbaby, Effie was born.  When she was born at 1 lb 9 oz I couldn’t even go in to see her.  I had worked in an NICU and knew the challenges she faced.  I was afraid to love this little girl that we might lose.  Of course, I couldn’t stay away and when I finally went in to see her my heart swelled and I knew I already loved her and having that feeling was worth the risk.  At one point when Roge and Effie were still in the hospital and they both were recovering from a difficult birth I realized that not only would I not quit worrying about my kids when you were on your own but with every daughter in law, every grandchild that was added to the family I would have even more people to worry about.  It was overwhelming and it pissed me off because up until that point I thought my worrying days were over.  

No one on earth can prepare you for what it is to have a child.  There is no way to even imagine the love you can feel for a child.  It is like no other love you will ever experience.  It is different than the love of family, romantic love, love of a dear pet.  It is a protective, painful, deep, enlightened love.  

When Zach was 2 and Jake just a baby, we all moved into Grandma and Grandpa’s trailer at the Golden Gate Trailer Park in Corte Madera.  One day I was standing in the little shower barely able to move in any direction, just letting the water stream down my back.  I had my chin resting on my chest and my whole body relaxed into the hot water.  And then it hit me – above all else I was a mother.  It hit me like a sledgehammer and I cried.  I was sobbing and my shoulders shook as my whole body seemed to absorb this knowledge.  I didn’t cry because I was sad about being a mother – I cried with the realization that this motherhood stuff was all consuming.  It was a surrendering.  I accepted that I loved you so much that this was the only way it could be.  I had to be 100% mother and that my needs and desires were going to be on the back burner for awhile.  Once I surrendered to that I embraced it.  I loved it.  I didn’t want it any other way.  That’s not to say I didn’t have my moments – I remember clearly driving past the Oakland Airport any number of times and wishing I could get on a plane and fly away from this life, this responsibility, this unrelenting demand to be everything to other people.   But raising you four boys has been the most fun, most engaging and most rewarding times of my life.

And this is what I want you to know - more than anything parenting is a surrendering.  It’s accepting the fact that your needs no longer come first.  That no matter how badly you wanted to go out with your spouse that night, if your child gets ill you aren’t going to go.   That no matter how tired you are, you have to finish feeding the baby or comfort the toddler or stay up for the teenager.  It’s accepting that when your child at any age is the most clingy and needy and when you most want to push him away, that is when you most need to pull him close and be there for him.  It’s surrendering to the child’s own inner timetable and ignoring the timetables laid out in the parenting books.  

When you boys were small I was actively involved with new parents in my job.  I was a lactation consultant, parent educator, and prenatal instructor.  It was an extremely rewarding job and I loved it.  

One morning I had a lactation consultation with a young mother who had a three week old baby.  All I knew about her was that she was having “breastfeeding problems.”  When she and her husband walked in the first thing I noticed was how put together she was.  Her hair was done, her make up on and she had a well coordinated outfit you might wear to work.  Much different than my early days as a mother which included a lot of sweatpants and t-shirts.  This mother obviously had a high powered job before she had her baby.  As put together as she was, she seemed fragile to me.  Her husband seemed uncomfortable to be there so I suggested he go get us all some coffee down the street.  I wanted to talk to this Mom alone.  Once he left I asked the Mom how I could help her.  She started out by describing how the breastfeeding was going, starting sentences but not quite finishing them.  I waited until she finally said with exasperation, “This is so challenging!!  I just thought if I applied my management skills everything would be all right and it’s not!”  Then she stopped, looked me right in the eye, there was a brief moment of silence and then we both burst out laughing.  Oh, how I remember those early days of motherhood when we all think we have some control over how this is going to go.  I reached out and hugged her as our laughter turned to tears and then back to laughter.  We were on the verge of hysteria not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the “injustice” of it all.  Just then her husband walked in.  He took one look at the two of us, dropped off the coffees and made a hasty retreat back to the waiting room.  This, of course, just made us laugh harder.  I will never forget this mother because it was at that moment that I knew she did her own surrendering.  I knew she was going to be alright.  I knew that she would put aside her “management skills” and just love her baby, she would let go of any expectations of how this would go and just live the experience.  And if that was all she got out of our consultation I was happy.