This coming Tuesday, my brother in law's wife will be induced to have their daughter. Just thinking about how Shay (the wife) is and what excitement lies ahead, makes me all weepy and nostalgic. This, of course, brings back memories from when we were waiting for
Roo to be born. I remember that fear, that never-ending waiting. I remember how nervous I was, how scared I was that I wouldn't know what it felt like when my water broke. I remember being admitted to the hospital, how upset I was that my husband wasn't with me and how relieved I was when he showed up. I can remember the sound of my daughter's cries echoing off the sterile hospital walls.
Oh, I could go on and on and on. The point is: I remember it all!! And what mother doesn't? What mother doesn't think back when a relative or friend is about to have her baby?
I was thinking about what advice I should pass on to Shay when Morgan is born. Should I tell her that it was nothing sort of crazy when I brought
Roo home? Maybe I should mention that swaddling your child is guaranteed to give you an extra hour of sleep? There's so much I can pass on to her, so much information that will save time and money. But should I? When I was pregnant I was bombarded with advice, both
solicited and unsolicited. There was so much information to take in, I literally had to take notes (I still have those notes to this day). Of course as soon as I stepped over the threshold with my daughter, I couldn't remember a thing and I did not have a spare second to consult my notes. It was all such a blur of emotion, dirty diapers, screams and uncontrollable tears of joy, that I could have cared less what other people told me.
It was a powerful moment when holding my daughter that I discovered no matter how much information I'd read or been told, that I could do this by myself. That I didn't need to follow the rules or go by the guidelines in the parenting manuals. I realized that the most
joyous part of being a new parent is learning and having both failures and
successes. As I stumbled through days and nights,
utterly exhausted and filled with a delight that couldn't be labeled, I learned how to be a parent.
The proof that I'm doing a good job is asleep in her crib, warm and dry and happy and that is the most fantastic feeling in the word.
I'm going to give myself a well-deserved pat on the back now.