My mom, "Grandmama" to her grand children, is amazing. Jax has the privilege of growing up in her home (for now). They see each other every day. Several days a week, she gives me a ten or thirty-minute break and carries Jax off for adventures. They take walks in the neighborhood, or play with toys in the living room, or use his swing in the backyard. She's a busy lady, so I'm grateful we're close enough to see her in little snippets of time like this, without having to clear a big block of time out of her, or my schedule. It's perfect, really. And when I have a hard day, or have something exciting to share, I grab her for five or fifteen minutes and we chat like the friends we are.
We've always been friends, and mom/daughter, at the same time. I don't think I ever heard her say, "I'm your mom, not your friend." It was just a smooth transition. When I needed a mom, she was my mom. When I needed a confidant, she was there too. We've only become better friends as I've grown up. And of course, becoming a mom myself has put everything she's ever done for me into an entirely new perspective.
In the hours that it took for me to journey into motherhood, she was there. Encouraging me, breathing with me, praying gently in tongues for me.
And holding Jax for the very first time.
(I realize these birth photos are a bit intense due to the emotion and pain clearly involved. Perhaps they are more intense to me because remember what those moments were like. But I'm still so, so, so, so glad we had Jax at home. And I'm incredibly glad my mom was there, acting as my doula, helping me get through. If we had been under the care of an ob/gyn, I doubt I would have been allowed to deliver vaginally, or go into labor on my own, because of Jax's size. They just don't realize how amazing the female body is, and how amazingly well a big ol' baby's head can mold and come out just fine. And they underestimate how strong and powerful women can be when they are supported and believed in, and have a medical team doing the right things to bring a big baby into the world. And how even if your big baby's elbow tears you a bit, you can recover and heal, and share your story of strength with all the boldness of a man boasting about his weight-lifting record or deer-hunting trophy or fish-catching tale. Because they ain't got nothin' on pushing a baby out into this world!).
End of soap box. Back to my mom.
What a treasure a mom is. I am eternally grateful for mine. I'm so glad she put up with me through my stubborn, strong-willed childhood and my teenage angst, and all the tears I shed in the first few weeks as a new mom myself.
We were laughing the other day about some of those memories.
When Jax was somewhere between four and eight weeks old, (I think), I tried out Baby Wise for two weeks. If you haven't heard of it, it's a feeding/sleeping model for infants, designed with the goal of helping babies sleep through the night. It works amazingly well for some parents, and not at all for others. At the time, I was desperate for Jax to nap longer than thirty minutes at a time, and to nap somewhere other than in the baby carrier on my body. I was convinced he would still be taking thirty minute naps all day long, attached to my body, when he was four years old. And if I didn't change things now, that was my terrible destiny.
The two weeks I attempted Baby Wise techniques were some of the worst of my experience as a young mom. My Mommy was compassionate, wanting to support me in finding my own way, while providing bits of advice here and there. Some of her advice I implemented, others I modified or tried at different times, or in different ways, or not at all. She was always gracious in supporting me in how I was choosing to do things at the time.
A great example of this was during the terrible Baby Wise weeks. Baby Wise methods want the baby to sleep at certain times and intervals, corresponding to feedings, and not to sleep at other times and intervals. I had been trying to get Jax to nap as directed, in his crib, and at the appopriate time. It was failing miserably. The family was eating lunch or dinner or such together at the table, and Jax was in his swing. I was eating like the starved breastfeeding mom that I was, and not paying attention to him. My mom glanced over, and commented sweetly, "Aww, he's falling asleep." She knew I had been trying to get him to nap for several hours, and it hadn't been working. Startled, I looked at Jax, and indeed, he was falling asleep.
"No!" I said abruptly! "He can't fall asleep now! He has to stay awake! It's not the right time!" My mom gave me a confused, eyebrow-raised expression, then walked over to the swing and pulled Jax out. Bringing him to the table, she bounced him gently and looked straight into his face.
"Jax, you can't go to sleep right now. I know you're really tired, but your Mommy says you can't go to sleep. You have to stay awake for her, okay?"
I knew she was subtly teasing me, but supporting me (keeping him awake) at the same time.
Yesterday we were remembering those first few crazy weeks, and laughing over this memory. My mom-to-a-seven-month-old self is already laughing at my mom-to-a-two-month-old self for waking up the baby because it wasn't "time" for him to sleep.
Even this past week, one afternoon I was trying to get him to go down for a nap. He'd been awake for hours, and had been giving me sleepy signs for more than an hour and a half. I had nursed him to sleep twice, only for him to wake up when I put him down in his crib. He had two separate ten-minute crying bursts where I left him in the crib, hoping he would realize how tired he was and just GO to sleep. I was sitting at my computer, unable to get anything done, because I could hear him wailing on the baby monitor. Twelve minutes passed, which added to the other bursts, totaled about thirty minutes of crying, and I thought to myself, "What am I DOING? He's not going to sleep. He might be sleepy, but he's not sleepy enough to go to sleep right now. He's miserable, and I'm miserable. What war am I trying to win here? It's not a battle, and we're not pitted against each other. What I want is for him to take a nap. What he needs is to take a nap. But he's not right now. So pick him up, and when he's ready for a nap, he'll take one."
I picked him up, and an hour later he finally took a nap in the baby carrier attached to his Daddy. Who LOVES to have Jax sleep attached to him. In fact, he laid down on our bed and napped while Jax napped on top of him, cozy in the carrier. Everyone wins.
Things got so much easier for me as a mom once I realized I needed to just follow my intuition about what my baby needed, and do what WORKED instead of worrying about how it was supposed to work.
And you know what? Now he takes two naps a day, in his crib, and almost every day, the first nap is an hour and a half, and the second is an hour. With a few months of patience, we got there. And doing what worked made the journey a heck of a lot more peaceful.
Maybe with a little more practice, someday I might be as amazing as the Mommy who raised me.
