SURVIVING A NEWBORN With Grace

My newest grandson is 17 days old. His dad must work 12 hour days for the next two weeks and his mum, my daughter is recovering from a traumatic birth experience, the kind that happens rarely in the First World, about one in  thousand births.  So I am helping out during the weekdays. After walking and rocking for hours, I wonder how I managed to mother nine newborns because it is exhausting. Life is indeed reduced to the basics, especially given the fact that we must return to the doctor’s office twice a week to make sure this poor babe is gaining enough weight.  No wonder modern mums quit breastfeeding; the pressure and anxiety to produce enough milk to satisfy science is enough to deter anyone, never mind a first time mum, whose iron levels are down, and is exhausted from the demanding schedule of feeding every three hours with barely an hour and a half rest between feeds.Thank goodness my daughter is determined and dedicated. 

I AM REMINDED OF HOW DEMANDING LIFE IS WHEN WE ARE YOUNG MOTHERS.

One afternoon before Easter, I was ironing cotton dresses and shirts for church the next day. Six year old Sarah watched for a while and then pointed to the iron and asked,

“What is that mummy?”

I laughed because I realized that this little girl had never seen me iron; I usually used the clothes dryer as my wrinkle smoother when I wasn’t looking for perfection but rather efficiency. My mother and aunt didn’t laugh when they heard this story;they were horrified, thinking that it was terrible I rarely ironed.

Actually it was not just the iron that seldom received attention as I mothered a large family, I eliminated many activities which I formerly thought crucial to my well-being with the birth of every child.

Painting portraits went with Matthew. Other babies gave the boot to crafts, dusting, bread making, interesting meals and laundry folding (each child dressed out of their own personal laundry basket). As every mother knows, a newborn takes at least eight hours a day to nurse, burp, rock and comfort, bath, change clothes and diapers (at least ten times a day), and to wash diapers, clothes, receiving blankets, sheets and baby blankets as well as your clothes which tend to get covered in vomit, and other nasty surprises.
The lack of sleep leads to a rather narrow existence where the best days are when you can sneak in a nap or shower and dress before noon. Oh, those were the days when babies reduced life to the basics.

Guess what?

Those basics were all I required when I relaxed and allowed myself to live in the moment, enjoying my newborn rather than bemoaning all the “important” activities that I couldn’t seem to even start. The very fact that everything my little one required to grow and thrive was inexpensive and near at hand was amazing. My baby didn’t need a lot of money spent on him, he simply needed arms to hold him, mother’s milk to drink and warm clothes and blankets

A friend who had five children, couldn’t quite grasp my peaceful demeanour as I sat nursing a newborn with family life whirling about me. She finally surmised that I was content to enjoy the present experience of mothering a tiny, dependent newborn. Her comments sparked an epiphany in me which kicked out guilt. I think I must have received a gift of understanding that ultimately my failings and lapses would be covered and hidden by Love.

An Honorific: To The Courage of Newborns

Recently, I decided to write an article about someone who deserves to be commemorated. The first person to pop into my head, was my five-week old old granddaughter, not some famous person who has accomplished great deeds.

What I found most startling about this little person, called Lila, was a look of utter surprise as she surveyed the world. When Lila turned at the sound of my voice and looked at me for the first time, her eyes widen suddenly in recognition. It was if she thought,

"Ah, so this is what you look like. I remember your voice."

She remembered the sound of my voice from her time in the womb, and at 6 hours old, finally put a face to that voice. Lila has been thrust out from the safety and security of the womb into a huge, cold world, with bright lights and loud abrasive sounds. She is wise, an old soul who connects with my spirit when we look at each other. It would be an unnerving experience, if it were not so profoundly sweet.The words of C.S. Lewis reverberate within me:

"You do not have a soul. You ARE a soul. You have a body."

Although Lila's body is helpless and fragile, she is a person, albeit a little person with a definite personality. The looks we exchange with each other are not fleeting, but penetrating, because our eyes truly are the windows of our souls. Without words, we recognize each other as sisters, fellow travellers who have come from God, who are made from the same stuff. This soul knows I see past appearances, right to her true self, just as she sees past my appearance right to my core, my inner spirit.

So I salute this brave person.In fact, I salute all infants for bravery, in the face of powerlessness, as they begin their life on earth.

Who Needs a Teddy Bear When You’ve Got a Teddy Baby?

A newborn can see clearly for about 8″, just far enough to focus intently on his mother’s face. It is almost as if the initiative to bond comes from the baby first, especially when I consider the fierce hand grip that they are born with. To ensure an infant is fed, he is born with an incredibly powerful rooting reflex. These traits help to draw out strong protective love from both parents. For me it was almost a magical transformation from an exhausted woman in labour to a glowing mother adoring her newborn.

Even when all the kids were still little, I decided to share this magic with them. It was one of the best decisions I have ever made to enable mutual respect and love to grow in our family. However, at the time, I was forced to literally watch the clock to make sure everyone would get a chance to hold their new sibling . It seems to me that the children bonded to each other because even our toddlers were given the privilege of holding the baby. With excitement twinkling in their eyes, barely containing their joy long enough to sit still while I propped up one of their little arms with a pillow, they looked extremely proud and pleased as they too held the baby.

Bedtime became something to look forward to for about three months after the birth of our newest addition. I would wrap the newborn tightly in a warm blanket and let each child cuddle up to a living and breathing teddy baby. This quiet time, to be alone with their sibling allowed warm, nurturing, love to flow between both children and it eliminated jealousy The focus was no longer just on the baby but attention focused on an older child and the baby.

As I nursed, it was easy to give the older children my mental and emotional attention by listening, talking, reading books to them, helping with homework and even playing with play dough with one hand. I can honestly say that no one resented all the time each newborn demanded because we were all part of caring for the baby. Little ones were proud to run for diapers, clothes or blankets and older kids would choose rocking or pushing a colicky baby in the buggy over washing dishes any day.

One of our family jokes concerns the day I managed to relate to five people at once! I was laying down on our bed, back to back with my husband as he read and I nursed a newborn. A toddler lay curled around my head, playing with my hair, I was fixing a knitting mistake for a seven-year old and talking to a ten year-old.

I am pretty proud of that statistic.