To procreate or not to procreate

This was the question I asked myself many times before B and I plunged into parenthood.

We (ok, I) deliberated long and hard for years and years about whether having a child was the right decision for me.

The difficulty with this decision is that you can easily identify the negative aspects involved in becoming a parent, but the positive aspects are more difficult to understand, particularly when you hear such wishy-washy wisdoms as "Your life will never been the same - for the better!" and "You don't understand your purpose on earth until you become a mother!"

So, let's start with what I knew. I knew that our lives would change. I knew I would get less sleep. I knew that vacations would be more difficult and that simple things that we took for granted, such as running out to the store, would no longer be as easy. I knew that our days of sleeping in and watching TV on a rainy afternoon would be over, for a while, anyway. I knew that my time would not really be my own anymore and that my priorities were going to shift dramatically.

I thought I was prepared for all the difficulties, but the truth is, you can't even begin to fathom the challenges until you experience them. Everything that you think will be hard is actually much harder than you expected. I've done my best to convey this information in previous postings, so I won't belabor the details again.

Because this post isn't going to be about how difficult it is to be a parent. I've written a lot about that, and for this post, I want to talk about the good stuff that comes when you become a parent. If you are on the fence about being a parent, you might benefit from my attempt at clarifying the wishy-washy wisdom.

Here is my clarification: In short, it feels good to be a parent. When you create an environment in which your child is happy and is thriving, you feel like a better person. You receive positive affirmation every time your child smiles at you or laughs because of something you did, whether you thought it was funny of not. In life, there are few opportunities to receive positive affirmation so many times in a single day. Imagine receiving 60 compliments in an hour? That's what it's like to take care of a smiling baby!

Every time your child reaches a milestone, from rolling over to sitting up to swallowing his first mouthful of mashed peas, you feel proud of yourself because the achievement happened under your love and care. Every time your child does something cute, you wish you could capture it in a little bubble and relive it over and over again, and again, you feel pride that your offspring has done something so memorable and wonderful. (On a side note, you sort of lose your mind regarding the awesomeness of your child's achievements and think that everything from a hiccup to a toe grab is the cutest thing ever, so you get to experience these moments all the time.)

Every time your child does something that reminds you of yourself, you receive more positive affirmation. After all, if there are two of you in the world doing the same thing, it must be a good idea! And when someone compliments your baby's cuteness or good behavior or skills, you feel as if the person is complimenting you.

When you sneak into your baby's room at night to watch him sleep (and perform your paranoid-mom is-he-still-breathing check), you feel wonder that you and your partner created the most perfect human being on earth, and you feel grateful that you have 18 years with him before he leaves and starts his own life away from you.

And part of you looks forward to that time, when you can sleep in again, vacation easily, shop when you want to, watch TV on a rainy day, and call your time your own. But part of you knows that no matter how difficult the 24/7 parenting days might be, you will miss them when they're gone, and so you try not to focus on the difficult parts and try to enjoy all the smiles and giggles and hugs.

You have the right to remain silent

B and I were discussing our significantly scaled-back social lifestyle recently and decided that having a baby is a little like being placed under house arrest.
Sure, sometimes we leave the house. On weekends, we usually take turns. One person goes to the grocery store, and another person gets the oil changed. (Or B goes to the grocery store and then gets the oil changed - whichever.)

When my parents are kind enough to babysit the little man on weekends, we both can leave the house together. Sometimes we even (gasp!) go to a restaurant. Usually we run errands. I know, I know--contain your envy.

Rarely do we both leave the house with E, as he usually falls asleep and then his naps for the rest of the day are thrown off.

Knowing that this lifestyle is somewhat self-inflicted makes it a little easier to tolerate. A few months ago, after reading several books about infant and child sleep, I chose to put E's naps first whenever possible. And so we do, but my goodness, it's difficult.

How do we cope with this huge lifestyle adjustment? First, we accept that it's how our lives are going now, but it's not how they will always go. We hope that by the time E is down to 1 nap per day (which usually happens between 12 and 15 months), we'll have a little more freedom.

Second, we buy as much as we can online. Amazon is my new best friend. I joined Amazon Mom, which is a free program that offers 2-day shipping on nearly everything. (It's amazing.)

And finally, we do our best to enjoy this time with E. Life with a new baby presents many challenges, but witnessing these early months and all his discoveries and firsts is pretty amazing. He gets more and more charming every day.

And some day, we will be able to take him out so he can show off this charm to the rest of the world.

A twenty-six moo salute

Today marks twenty-six weeks from E's birth. This occasion should be celebrated: I have achieved my pumping goal.

I have pumped at home, at other's homes, and in hotel rooms. I have pumped in parking lots, on highways, and by the side of the road. I have pumped at work.

I have pumped in the middle of the night and in the middle of the day. I have pumped while E napped, and I have pumped while trying to juggle a crying E. I have woken forty-five minutes early for the past 6 months so that I could pump. I have stayed up later than I wanted to so that I could pump.

I overcame the challenges that arose so that I could continue pumping. I pumped during an earthquake, a hurricane, and a snowstorm. I pumped during a 50-hour power outage. I pumped when I left my charging plug behind in a New York hotel room. I pumped after my first pump wore out and I had to get a replacement.

I pumped for hours a day, every day, for the sake of my baby, with the help, assistance, and encouragement of family and friends, and especially of B, who supported me in my goal, despite its numerous inconveniences.

So what now? I'll keep going, for a little while at least. I recently reduced my daily pumping sessions to 3 and consequently have to thaw some of the stockpiled supply to keep E fed each day. Probably by the end of the month, we'll start supplementing with formula. Eventually, I'll drop to 2 pumping sessions, and then 1, and then stop completely, whenever I decide that I've done as much as I want to, and we'll switch to 100% formula. By then, E will be eating more solids and won't be drinking quite as much as he is now.

To all my pumping sisters, both full- and part-timers, I raise my single, small, celebratory drink to you.