Read the latest in a weekly blog by two seemingly different friends...one living the Urban Mommy lifestyle...the other raising her child in Mama Earth style. Every week we'll write about everything from taking herbs during pregnancy, to hiring full-time nannies, AND anything YOU would like to hear about too!







Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Winter wonderland...??!

So to update, I've just been hired as a part time Raw Food Chef apprentice; I'm finally feeling fit enough to ride my bike whilst pulling Mayana behind me on a trailer up the hills of Saltspring; and I've now officially separated (amicably so!) from Mayana's Papa.

However, in true life's irony, all I'm craving right now is coffee and hot soup; there is snow a foot deep all over Saltspring; and I'm suddenly feeling horny as heck for the first time since birthing Mayana!

Ah yes, the life of a Scorpio never ceases to be colourful...and perhaps a recount of this past weekend's shenanigans proves it perfectly...

It all started on Friday afternoon. I headed to my first day as a Raw Food apprentice for an excellent 3 hours of preparing desserts for a "Sweet Treats" workshop the next day. As we vita-mixed, soaked, dehydrated, and generally "un-cooked"...my Mum watched Mayana and took her for a long walk. "Watch out, its going to snow- its cold enough" my Mum warned when I returned. "Yeah, yeah" I scoffed...thinking, geez, its only November.
Later, San watched Mayana as I did an acting workshop with the ever-amazing Nicola Cavendish. She has acted in, and written, a number of Canadian plays, including one titled "It's Snowing on Saltspring". Without a doubt Providence took centre stage later that night as we had to rush off early from the workshop due to heavy snowfall!
By the morning, we were engulfed in a brilliant, beautiful blanket of white...and totally snowed in.
And 20 minutes past 8am, we also lost all power.
Its amazing how survival skills kick in for a group of people who are used to electric heat and hot water on demand. Firewood was whisked into the dry cover of the hall entrance, a fire was made, and blankets were rounded up. We even managed to make a pot of coffee on a camping pot on the fireplace (priorities please!).
With coffee having warmed our bellies, I donned Mayana's first ever snowsuit(!) and out we headed. She thought it was wonderful...chattering to all the new shapes made by the snow, and the birds twittering and dancing among the whitened branches. Wonderful that is...until she touched it. "Waaahhhhh!!!"...oh right, sorry darling, I forgot to mention, its REALLY cold!!

We got lots of video, and plenty of photos, and it was amazing to watch her as she giggled at the deer families walking delicately to search for food in our garden of trees. The computers were out, and the 2 teenagers in my house learned to drum, read books to us, and helped to make dinner by candlelight on the fire! Its true "Papa" and I are still getting used to our new status, but we totally worked together to keep the fire going, and to make warm beds in the living room where we all ate, talked, played, read, and slept for the next 48 hours.

Family is so unique for all people, but this past weekend, I felt a strong sense of family. My roommate who usually lives above the garage, also spent the nights with us, and it was lovely to get to know him better...and I know Mayana considers him Uncle John now that he's read her a book!

Now the power is back on, the boys are back upstairs in their rooms, and I don't have an excuse NOT to make a wheatgrass smoothie for breakfast instead of hot coffee! I still have an excuse not to bike pulling Mayana up the hill behind me!...but I did manage to go to the gym to workout yesterday.
And my peaked hormones?
Perhaps the snow reminds me of days of yore where I would snowshoe with a handsome love interest, and then return to the warm to snuggle with hot chocolate and Baileys in hand. Winter can be a very "cosy" time! Perhaps it is simply that now Mayana is 10 months old, my physical body has been able to take one of its first steps back to stand as a woman, and not just nursing mother. Or perhaps it is the new changes in my life bring feelings of excitement like a new love...healthy shifts are sexy!

Winter wonderland? Oh yes...a true weekend to symbolise the first year of parenting...we are tired, the house is a mess, we are busy organizing everyone, food is less than brilliant in its presentation...but my goodness, can it get any more magical?

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Today, I'm a good mother

Being a mother seems to mean always feeling like you could do better. If you're a stay at home mom, you feel like you don't have enough "quality" time with your baby. If you're a working mom, you plain don't have enough time with your baby. We can't win. So that's why, today, I want to celebrate: today, I'm a good mother.
My husband is away this week and work is extremely busy. On top of that, since Monday, we're trying to get Adam to fall asleep in his crib, instead of in our bed. However you want to look at it, the odds are stacked against me. Tuesday, Adam ate all his dinner, but was indignant at the idea of falling asleep in his crib (and so, consequently, didn't - no question who is boss in our house!). Yesterday, Adam had a grand total of two spoons of his dinner, but fell asleep in his crib (an achievement that was slightly dulled by the fact that he woke at 5am, starving). Today, however, he did both: he ate all his dinner AND he fell asleep in his crib. In addition to that, I managed to skip out of the office on my lunch hour and take Adam to his swimming class, even though I barely had time to breathe, much less read e-mails or make any inroads into my to-do list, . For one hour in the middle of the day, I got to play and giggle and be silly with my son. We both had a blast. And even with my break in the middle of the day, I was still home at a decent time - a successful day by any definition.
As mothers, I think we are programmed to feel that we can always do more. As women, we want to be more than a mother, and finding the balance is like searching for the holy grail. Today, I feel like I have found it. Tomorrow might be different, but today, I'm celebrating. Today, I was a good mother.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The breast may be best, but it's not enough

Breastfeeding was one area of motherhood I was woefully unprepared for. I expected it to be easy. I imagined myself looking serenely down at my baby feeding at my breast, a perfect picture of mother and child. Wow. Not quite.

My adventure started in the clinic, where I was given shields to help Adam latch on. First mistake: nipple shields create a barrier between you and your baby that prevents the stimulation of milk. At ten days old, Adam hadn’t regained his birth weight and so we fed him 100ml of formula. Second mistake: supplementing with formula prevents your body from producing milk. In order to try to get some rest, my husband would sometimes give our baby a bottle of expressed milk in the middle of the night. Third and fourth mistake: milk stimulation is at its greatest during the night hours and feeding with a bottle leads a baby to reject the breast. And so I felt guilty. Guilty because I couldn’t seem to be able to feed without the shields. Guilty because I was feeding him formula from a bottle instead of a feeding tube attached to the nipple (or from a syringe, as my pediatrician recommended). Guilty because I was putting my needs (rest) ahead of those of my baby (breast milk). Add two bouts of mastitis and six weeks of cracked nipples into the mix, and breastfeeding was turning very quickly into a nightmare experience.
But I survived… Eventually I said screw you and decided to do it my way – which meant nipples shields and the odd expressed bottle. I went on to exclusively breastfeed Adam until I had to return to work (ironically, as soon as I stopped obsessing about it, my milk supply increased). How? Support and lots of it. From my husband, who was always there with open arms and endless patience. From my best friend, who had been through it all and worse. Together we laughed and cried and got indignant over men writing books on breastfeeding. From our local midwife, who brought tears to my eyes when she patted me on the back and told me I was doing great, (everyone else only seemed to be telling me what I could be doing better). From my mother, who was concerned for me and not just for my baby. My mother-in-law, my yoga teacher, Adam’s pediatrician… the list goes on and on. For me, it wasn’t a village raising a child. The village was feeding the child!

So, when Health Canada or the WHO wonder why more mothers don’t breastfeed or why they give up so early (90% of mothers in Canada start, but less than half that last three months), I can tell them. It’s hard. It’s hard on Mom. It’s hard on Dad. And sometimes it’s hard on Baby. Without proper support (which is seriously lacking), an emotionally and physically exhausted mom can very easily decide that breast is not best. And really, who can blame her? Not me.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

From the Urban Mommy

I guess this is my cue to say what it is that makes me an urban mommy. Most of it, you already know. I live with my husband in a three bedroom, 85 square meter apartment in downtown Barcelona. Adam was born at a clinic, ten minutes away, and I had an epidural, just in time for the “expulsion” (as they so delicately put it here). I breastfed Adam exclusively until he was six months old, and I had to return to work, but I also expressed milk and had my husband feed the baby sometimes, to give me a break. Working full-time, I believe in outsourcing as much as possible, so that my time at home is full on and quality. My husband and I own one car between us, which he uses to commute (I bike to work), but which at weekends stays parked most of time as pretty much everything we need is within a decent walking distance – one of the great advantages of an urban lifestyle. Like Amy, we make Adam’s food fresh (he also likes yams!). The ingredients aren’t organic, though, but the veggies are seasonal and locally grown, purchased at the market located right in front of our building.
But… I think that for all our differences, Amy and I have an awful lot of things in common, too. I bet there are times Amy can’t stop staring at her baby, still surprised after so many months that this incredible little creature is actually hers. Amy probably also thinks that there just aren’t enough hours in the day, and that an extra hand or two wouldn’t go amiss! Although our chests may puff with pride whenever someone comments on beautiful are our babies, what really fills our hearts is when someone remarks on how happy they are. I suspect that Amy, too, sometimes looks back with nostalgia to those simpler times when we didn’t have quite so much responsibility, but yet, neither of us would change a thing about what we have today. And finally, however different Amy and I are choosing to raise our children, however different our dreams may be, in the end, what we both really want, is for them to grow up to be happy, healthy, kind and tolerant.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

What makes me a "Mama Earth"...

Okay, so I promised Europe tales...but I'm tired, and need to do something easy. Hippy-style...I've just burned some sage to clear the house of germs, I'm sipping organic wine, and eating local freshly picked corn straight off the cob. So I figure its about time to give some insight into why I'm the Mama Earth between me and Deirdre...
And in wine-induced, relaxed end-of-the-day style...I'm doing it in point form!

*I leave Mayana bare-bummed often to let her get sun on her behind, and let the grass catch "anything" she decides to do!

*I have taken Mayana to a Saltspring dance with world music and a sacred chanting circle at the end...and she whirled around happily in her carrier with me all night

*I co-sleep with Mayana, and wear her while shopping...even walking and nursing at the same time sometimes!

*I visit my friends who live on a float home and use solar power, and went skinny dipping off their dock

*I use cloth diapers, and when I need to use disposable...I use the compostable kind...yes, they exist!

*I burn incense to clear the air of diaper smells

*I take Mayana to my djembe drumming class...and give her a shaker to keep the beat

*I make Raw Cacao Walnut Carrot Cake, and feed Mayana other interesting things like pureed organic yams, curried tofu, and homemade granola bars. I chew her food sometimes as a way to soften it before she eats it...and we sometimes eat fresh parsley or calendula right from the garden

*On sunny days, I'll often hang out with my other Mama friends and our babies, and we usually go topless and discuss things like our connection to our "yonis" (goddess term for vaginas)

*I write poetry about Mayana and her birth

*My partner and I have been to an astrologer to learn more about Mayana's signs surrounding her birthdate

Gotta go, I'm having a craving for Oreo cookies. Even Earth Mamas have their vices. ;)

Monday, September 13, 2010

Finding the time...

Sometimes I wish I had a nanny! Unlike Deirdre, I am home often with my daughter, however the guilt still occurs for me. The guilt of always being behind somewhere- whether its calling my mom, being on time to meet with a friend, writing this blog!, or even playing with Mayana. Yes, even though we spend most days together, sometimes I am so busy with shopping for groceries, writing a belated email, or getting to the ferry on time, that Mayana has to patiently (and sometimes not-so-patiently!) just stick with me in the hullabaloo.

I have just moved to a new home. My partner and I have decided to live separately, although we are still together working on things. I don't think this is actually that strange...I know many couples find it hard in the first year of having a new baby. And in our case, we had only been together 3 months before getting pregnant, so we're still getting to know each other, and how we work! So space seems to be a positive thing for us to stay harmonious, and we both agree this is best for Mayana- to have parents who like each other!

So I have moved to a large home since I have agreed to be housemother to a 15 year old international student from Germany and my 17 year old cousin who wants to try school on Saltspring island. There is lots of strange music in the house, and I am learning how to make food for big eaters, but Mayana seems to love the young energy in the house, and I am excited at positive changes in everyone's lives.

Off I go as apparently I am behind to head into town, and Mayana stirs downstairs- ack!

Next installment, TRAVELLING IN EUROPE...that is my excuse for not writing this summer...we were too busy with East Indian weddings, Portuguese camping trips, and swimming in the Scottish seas...stories coming very soon!! When I get the time =)

Saturday, September 11, 2010

A Worthy Read

I belong to a google group of English speaking parents living in Barcelona and during a fiesty exchange of e-mails regarding the daycare system here, someone sent this out:

http://www.unicef.ca/portal/Secure/Community/502/WCM/HELP/take_action/Advocacy/rc8.pdf

It's a very interesting read and is definitely thought-provoking.

Friday, September 3, 2010

A mother's constant companion

Yesterday I arrived home at 7:30 in the evening. Once upon a time, this would have been early. For the year before I had Adam, I worked long hours, and was regularly home in time to go straight to bed. Then, it didn’t really matter. My husband was often away or also working his own long hours, and we always had the weekends to be together. Now, though, it is a different story. Now I have a baby at home and even with the best nanny in the world, he needs me and I need him. Until yesterday, I was doing pretty well, leaving on the dot. And, in my defense, yesterday was an exception: my new boss was over from Switzerland, it was the month closing and my husband was already home. But that didn’t stop me from feeling bad... from feeling guilty. After all, I have chosen to work full-time, in a position that would, at times, require me to work some overtime. Most of the time, I can justify my choices and feel confident that I am still a good mother (perhaps even a better mother), even if I’m not home during the day.
Regardless, though, feelings of guilt still seep through. I have heard that guilt is a mother’s constant companion. For a working mother, we seem to be Siamese twins. There’s no doubt we have come a long way since our mother’s generation (where my mother was one of the few who worked). Most of my female friends work, and those that don’t, intend to return to the workforce sooner, rather than later. I was offered a promotion shortly after returning from maternity leave – meaning no one in my company seemed to be worried about my shifting priorities, or the high probability I would be taking another mat leave during the next few years. Still, though, many people (of all generations) look at me sympathetically when I say I am working full-time. There is less sympathy and more disbelief when I tell them it was my choice, as opposed to something forced on me by a less-than-understanding employer, or our own economic situation. But, that's not the hardest part. I can deal with external judgment. What is hardest is that little nagging voice inside my own head questioning whether or not I am being the best mother to my son by working full-time.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Baby by Plane

When traveling with a baby, most people are concerned about the plane ride. I certainly spent a lot of time thinking about and preparing the logistics of my flight to Vancouver when Adam was four months old. I paid extra to have only one stopover; I bought a lighter, cheaper stroller, that would be easier to maneuver and harder to damage. I googled traveling with a baby and took note of experienced parents’ tips. The trip was a breeze and Adam was a real little trooper throughout. How was I to know the most challenging part was yet to come? Four days later I was exhausted, close to tears and wondering how I would ever survive raising an international family. Adam was sleeping great: from 4pm to 1am. I suspected there was a secret underworld of parents giving their children “a little something” and was determined to join ranks. I called my pediatrician (hey, 1am in Vancouver is 10am in Barcelona!), but was told no medication. He was, however, surprised that Adam was having such difficulty. Babies normally recover from jet lag quickly, he told me, five to six days and they are perfectly adjusted. Hmmm… I had to bite my tongue. Your idea of quickly is certainly different from mine, buster! Still, I have to give credit where credit is due. On the fifth night, Adam fell asleep at 8:30pm and slept straight to 5:30am. The remainder of my vacation was fantastic – and in the end, well worth the initial days of sleeplessness. Just don’t ask me how the jet lag was returning….

Here’s a summary of the best tips, plus a few of my own.

For the plane:
- Some people recommend a window seat as it’s more private for nursing and quieter. Personally, I say go for an aisle seat. You can easily get up and walk around without having to bother the person next to you.
- Definitely reserve the bassinet for long haul flights. It’s free and makes a HUGE difference.
- Take advantage of stopovers to have a good meal, and bring plenty of snacks. If you are traveling alone, it isn’t always convenient to eat when they are serving food.
- Within my carryon, I had a separate bag for diaper changing (with one diaper, wipes, a change of clothes and a plastic bag for messes), and another for feeding. This meant I wasn’t routing around a big bag during potentially “urgent” situations and I could re-fill as necessary during quieter periods.

For the jet lag:
- If you don’t want to give your baby any “help” (and it isn’t recommended), be prepared that it could take him up to 5 days to adjust, and try to plan your trip accordingly.
- When traveling westward, work hard to keep your baby awake for as long as possible, delaying the time he finally goes to sleep each night.
- Traveling eastward is harder, because their body tells them to go to sleep later, rather than earlier. The key here is to not let him sleep until noon (or in my case, 3pm) and as soon as you can, take him out into the natural light.
Any experienced travelers out there? We're flying back this Christmas for ten days... and any suggestions or tips are more than welcome!! I suspect it will be a whole different story with a one year old.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Childcare...joy, challenge...the rhythm that is without rhythm!

Our childcare for Mayana is, well...us. We will go to Vancouver or Victoria to visit the Grandparents, and then we will get fabulous moments to do our emailing (or blogging!) and sometimes even a couple hours to do a yoga class, or go for a swim. But we live on Saltspring Island, and there, my partner, San, and I are the childcare for Mayana.
Truth be told, its a very organic lifestyle for us right now. I am on maternity leave for one year, and San was hit by a car 2 years ago, so in rehabilitation and not working. There is little routine to our days. Sometimes we go for a long walk. Sometimes we take Mayana swimming, and tag team for turns to have our own swim time. Sometimes I garden and San watches Mayana; other days he goes to a concert and I take her for the night.
This is wonderful, and yet, just as much a challenge.
I find myself asking the questions: "Should we have more rhythm to our days?"and "When do I get to catch up with ALL the things I want or need to get done?!"
I am someone who usually had more than one job on the go, and loved to go for runs, or at least 3 swims a week. I woke up at around the same time every day and had my schedule all written into my daybook each week. Suddenly I find myself waking up at different times each day (and during the night!), or starting to go for a run, only to have Mayana burst into tears, or have something burst out of her diaper(!), and that's the end of that. And I don't even know what day of the week it is these days!
Attachment Parenting is a term that has been getting more chapter space in baby-care books lately. Martha and Barry Sears, in the well-renowned baby "bible" The Baby Book, describe Attachment Parenting as a way of responding to a baby's needs based on THEIR rhythm. They recommend wearing your baby often, co-sleeping, being very alert and responding immediately to baby's needs, and allowing your schedule to be guided by baby's schedule. They suggest that what results is a "flow between mother and baby", where there is mutual sensitivity and trust. It can improve behaviour, development, intelligence and intimacy where the children are able to "focus on awareness, not just meeting needs" and are more inclined to "bond to people and not to things."
I think this makes a lot of sense, but there is an important piece to this puzzle. WE as the parents need to be willing to do this. We, as a team, have to commit to this attachment. Yes, a flow between mother and baby, but ALSO a flow between father and baby. Its not Attachment Mothering, its Attachment Parenting. After the third time of trying to garden while my baby sobbed in my partner's arms, it dawned on me that my baby needed some help in attaching to Papa. I knew deep down she would have a great time, because she laughs her head off when he makes funny faces at her in the mornings, but she was stuck. Papa didn't have "Boobie" as we call it, end of story. How do you laugh when you worry milk is not nearby? And nurturing takes practice. Most of us women have been coddling dolls, and then other people's babies since we could remember. How many men do you see snuggling a doll and saying "I can't wait until I have one of these"?! To be honest, I hope it becomes more that do in the future. But for now, I realize I have to take the time to mother two people...Mayana in her development into a child, and Papa in his development as a father. Help show him what cries mean what needs for Mayana. Spend some time close to her when he is with her, so she can relax knowing milk is nearby. Express my milk and give him a bottle. Yes, ironically, I have to stop being such a mother...he knows what to do. I need to practice nurturing their relationship. And we both need to practice a new rhythm; where this new blissful life guides and teaches us how to be evermore present, evermore loving, and ever so patient with those around us we love.
So from both of us, here is a perfect Sufi poem, by the ever eloquent Rumi:
You that come to birth
And bring the mysteries
Your voice-thunder makes us very happy
Roar, Lion of the Heart, and Tear me open

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

The challenge of childcare

Any working mother will tell you that childcare is a challenge. Leaving your baby in the care of someone else is never easy and for some there are limited choices. We criticize the system regularly but the reality is not too bad - especially compared with some other countries. Daycares will take babies from 4 months and are subsidized. A full-time private daycare rarely costs more than 300 Euros a month ($500), plus a little extra for food. Public daycare is half that, and often has better facilities, although the supply comes nowhere near covering the demand. School starts at age 3 and is from 9am-5pm. A full-time, live-out nanny, although expensive, is not prohibitive, and can be a viable option for many double income couples. Throw grandparents who live close by into the mix, and you have some decent childcare options that don’t eat up an entire paycheck.
We decided early on that we wanted to go the route of a full-time nanny, at least for the first year. My husband’s family lives an hour and a half away – close enough for sporadic, emergency help, but too far for our day to day needs. Six months seemed too young for a daycare, and I liked the idea of having someone take care of Adam from home. If this person was also willing to do some housework and cooking, we could maximize the hours we were home to enjoy our baby, and minimize stress. Decision made, we turned to the hiring process.
For about a month, I interviewed around 20 people. Some were recommendations of recommendations. Most came from different agencies. People told me to trust my instinct, but that’s easier said than done when you’re doing something for the first time. Some of the candidates called me ‘mam’, and my husband ‘sir’, making us feel quite uncomfortable. Others were shy and it was difficult to get a realistic impression.
Finally we chose one girl…. simply because we liked her. She hadn’t worked in a house before, her only experience with babies was with her niece, thirteen years before, but we liked her. She seemed like a happy person, honest and easy-going, so even though she didn’t check all of our requirements, we offered her the job. Today, Adam greets her with a smile and pays little attention to me as I head out the door, cheerfully playing and sitting in her lap. What more could a working mother ask for?

Saturday, June 19, 2010

"If I can't dance, I don't want to be a part of your revolution..."

Unlike Deirdre, I'm not yet planning to balance career and motherhood. I have just been accepted into a Masters program that will start in 3 months time, and will, in fact, be held on Saltspring Island. But that will not be full time, and although much work, will be manageable while still being a stay-at-home Mama.
Right now though, I want to talk about balance too. I DO relate to Deirdre in seeking a balance- the balance between Amy-as-a-Mother, and Amy-as-Amy.
People comment on my daughter's strong legs, saying "She could be a dancer". I am proud as punch. Yet niggling thoughts arise...
One of the reasons I am going back to school is to address my own desire to fuel my artist that all-too-often got put aside for the sake of academia, or working in a "real" job. When the "dancer" comment is made, I find myself thinking, "I, too, want to dance".
Which is actually a terribly exciting thought, and terrifying in the same moment. By seeing the possibilities that are endless for my daughter, and wanting to help her believe that she can realize any and all of her dreams, I have reawakened my own dreams too.
And I am not willing to live vicariously through my daughter. "Oh, you should do this because I never got to"...rather, I want to inspire her in my own embracing of life's opportunities.
So uh, yeah, that means I actually have to DO it.
I did a Beginner's Ballet class just over a month ago. I walked into the class with my old ballet slippers and nervous trepidation. I put the slippers on , and promptly took them off as I realized my feet have grown since I was 16 years old! I felt frumpy, my butt only just squished into the tights I put on, and I was royally dizzy when we did our turns portion of the class. I left thinking "Well, at least the classical music was beautiful".
Yet, as I went for a walk the next day, I felt fabulous. New muscles had begun to twitch. "Do this again, and soon!" they seemed to say to my body.
However, Mayana got sick, and then the week after that I travelled with her, and then two weeks later, with certified Mummy-brain (it is a real illness!), I got the day wrong for the class.
I give myself credit. I'm a Mother now, and I'm proud that role comes first for me right now. But I'm catching myself humming classical songs these days, I surreptitiously point my toes while standing in lines, and I think I'm going to go shopping for some new ballet slippers...heck, gotta look a little more professional for the next class, right?!

Friday, June 18, 2010

Back to work

Today marks the end of my first week back at work following six months maternity leave. Even though I acknowledge the ideal is probably some kind of version of part-time work, I decided to return full-time. Spanish law is such that had I wanted to reduce my hours, my company would have been required to oblige me, reducing my salary proportionally. Yet I wanted to give full-time a try – otherwise I would never know whether or not it was possible to find a decent balance between a career and family. I have a lot of things in my favour: a fabulous nanny who treats my son as if he were her own; a short commute, so minimum time is lost on the road; a good employer that offers a certain amount of flexibility; and finally, a very supportive husband who does his share of housework and childcare. With all this, if I couldn’t do it, I surmised, nobody could.
So how did it go? Well, it went okay… actually better than my expectations. I wasn’t crying in the bathroom, missing my baby, regretting my decision. I enjoyed seeing my co-workers again, dressing up in the mornings, using my brain. And I loved coming home in the evenings, seeing Adam, holding him, playing with him. Continuing to nurse his morning and night feeds ended up being a great decision. For a couple of hours a day, it’s as if I’m back on maternity leave. Yes, Monday was hard. I took a taxi to get home ten minutes earlier and didn’t even stop to pick up our mail. There was a minor hiccup on Tuesday when our nanny called me to tell me Adam was throwing up. But even that served to make me more optimistic: I was able to go home, nurse him, be with him for a bit, and return to work. I can be flexible and maybe, just maybe, I can be one of the lucky few who manages to find that elusive work-life balance and be happy.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Mother Goddesses are we...


My friend Justine has just had a baby girl, Lilah Sage. On Saturday I met her for the first time...a tiny koala bundle so perfectly nestled in her mother's bosom (I never thought I'd use the word "bosom", but now I'm a Mama, all sorts of strange grandmother-type words emerge from my lips!) I can't believe only 4 and a half months ago, my baby was that size.

We sat in Justine's campervan as she told us the story of her birth. Women need to do that, share birth stories. It heps us to enter through the portal into Motherhood. I know after my birth, which was loud and quiet, sometimes lucid, and other moments panic stricken, I wondered if I'd done it "right". Now I know as we share our stories, women empower one another to know they each did an amazing job. We are all powerful Goddesses in the birthing journey.

Later that evening, I danced around a bonfire with drums and singing happening all around as my baby's daddy held her sleeping at the periphery.

Singing...I sang a song as a gift for Justine's baby before I left the evening gathering. My mother and baby group have decided to sing at least one children's song each time we meet. And today, I taught myself on guitar some children's music my own father had played for me when I was little. The music hasn't died, as Don McLean once sang....no, for me, the babies that surround me are bringing it new and freshly alive.

A little boy...

There are some words that just mean more in your mother tongue, no matter how much you dominate your second or third language. 'I love you' is a perfect example. When I was around 20 weeks pregnant, I discovered one more. My husband and I had gone to the doctor’s office for another ultrasound, and this one would tell us the baby’s sex. In general with our doctor we spoke Catalan, switching to Spanish if there was something I needed clarified (my Spanish is slightly better than my Catalan). This was fine with me and after nine years in Barcelona, I was pretty fluent in both. Later that evening, both my husband and I shared the news with our families. There was a lot of excitement about our pregnancy – the first grandchild on both sides - and knowing the sex made it seem that little bit closer for everyone. When I told my mother she would be having a grandson, she got emotional, “a little boy”, she said, almost in wonder. It’s hard to explain, but hearing it said back to me, in my own language, made me emotional as well. After spending the whole day telling everyone in Spanish and Catalan that I was having a baby boy, saying it and hearing it in English was what really made the news feel real.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Getting pregnant (Amy)...

Oh shit. Oh OW! Oh shit.
"Sweetie, you okay? Need me to make you a cup of tea?" "Um, YES please." (My father is British, and tea is the answer for any woes in true Brit tradition!) Oh shit. Oh OWWW. Oh shit shit SHIT!
That's me on May 22nd, 2009. I'm sitting on the toilet in my Dad's Vancouver apartment after a painful day of getting ALL my wisdom teeth removed. I'm holding the pharmacy pregnancy test in my right hand- positive. Oh shit. In my left hand I'm holding the medication I'm supposed to be taking to help the agony of the new deep holes in my mouth. Only now I'm not sure I can take them without damaging this newly realized fetus in my womb. Oh OW!
I let my Dad make me some tea, oblivious to this new shocking discovery. Yes, shocking. My boyfriend and I have been together for only 4 months, and I'm working a $10-an-hour job at an Ayurvedic spa on Saltspring Island. Only a few months before, I'd had a high-paying job as a Program Coordinator at a University, yet left it after a spiritual revelation whilst visiting Saltspring on a yoga retreat. I'd heard a voice in a reiki session tell me to stay on the island.
So I did. I figured I was meant to explore my creativity. Or prepare to go back to school to focus on my career path.
But pregnant?!! Me, a Mom, now?!
I called my boyfriend, who was back on the island, about to go to a dance party. I broke the news cautiously. He cheered on the phone. I was less than sure.
I told him not to tell anyone until we discussed it together more. Did we think we were ready to do this?
I guess he did. He promptly called and told his parents right after he got off the phone with me.
Meanwhile, I suffered the weekend with my parents in silence...contemplating what I felt, feeling agony as I refused to take my pain medication for my teeth, and feeling angry at my boyfriend for telling his parents before we'd agreed to tell anyone.
Finally I told my Mom on the Sunday night, after we'd gone for a beautiful kayak ride. She'd noticed I was quieter than usual. I was confused. I was feeling happy, shock, fear, and the need to share all this emotion. I burst into tears as I told her. I thought she'd be concerned at this unplanned surprise, but instead she grinned and said, "Oh wow, that's wonderful!" I stopped crying- it was? Hmm.
Okay, so I was 30, I'd been eating healthy organic local island food and doing lots of yoga. My body was strong and I'd always wanted to be a Mama. My partner is a handsome East Indian man, and our baby would have such a beautiful cultural mix. Plus, he wanted to be a Dad...a blessing these days. It was true we were in a new relationship and we had lots of kinks to work out, but maybe this would help us to focus our lives and our future plans.
I decided to go for it. Okay...I'm in...here goes...but Oh shit, I'm going to need LOTS of tea!

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Getting pregnant...

I guess it was about two years ago now that my husband and I started to contemplate having a baby. I have to admit that I was less than eager. It wasn't that I didn’t want children, but I knew that they would change everything and I preferred to think of it as something for the future. That year, however, I was turning 30 and suddenly the future was a lot closer. Well-meaning (but also slightly interfering) friends and acquaintances would tell me not to take too long as "the clock was ticking". I probably could have held up against the pressure better, if I didn’t secretly think they were right. I wanted children and I didn’t want to be too old having them. My husband was beginning to look longingly at babies in strollers and kids in the park. We shared ownership of a three bedroom apartment with our bank. We both had stable jobs, with good salaries. We had close friends who had already taken the plunge and eager grandparents-to-be. We were ready and I had run out of excuses. So with all that in mind, one month I stopped taking the pill and decided to let nature take its course.

I quickly realized I would have to learn patience (not one of my virtues). If I’m honest, I’m used to getting what I want and having to depend completely on forces beyond my control was a new feeling. For an obsessive planner (i.e. me), not being able to plan nine months down the road “just in case” was very difficult. In addition, there was the niggling worry that maybe we weren’t meant to conceive naturally. But, as per the norm for couples in their early thirties, a few months after stopping the pill, my period was late and I was pregnant.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Hola from Barcelona

And here I am, no skin softening face mask, but tapping away at the computer. To set the scene, it’s Sunday evening and the whole family is in our living room. My husband is sitting at the table, reading the paper. I am on the couch, one foot gently bouncing the baby bouncer, where Adam, my five month old is playing happily. It is a cozy set-up in our 80 square metre (800 square feet) apartment in downtown Barcelona.

I marvel at how much my life has changed in just one year. This time last year, I was working seventy hours a week, slipping out of meetings because I was gagging with so-called “morning”sickness (mine lasted all day). Today, I’m on maternity leave, taking care of a beautiful baby boy. Last year, I was scared (so much so, that part of me suspects the nausea was really just serious nerves). Now, I’m a full-time mom, wondering how I’ll manage the transition when I head back to work in two weeks time. The learning curve over the last 12 months has been so great. My life will never be the same and I wouldn't have it any other way.

A baby blog is born...

Well, here I am with raw egg and apple cider vinegar hardening on my face...an excellent skin-softener I swear! I'm Amy...new Mama of a beautiful baby girl, and living on Saltspring Island, British Columbia, Canada. Halfway around the world, my high school friend, Deirdre, is living in the heart of Barcelona, Spain as the new Mommy of a beautiful baby boy.

So we've decided to tell our story. And share it side by side so you get a taste of raising a child in a European city, versus raising a child on a hippy-style island. Restaurants vs Potlucks. Hospital vs Home Birth. Tylenol vs Strange potions concocted in full moonlight!

We have stories of figuring out how to nurse with a nipple guard, and mountain rats stealing soymilk at midnight. We have jet lag stories, and secrets of yoga breathing before going on flights. Life in the city with a new baby, vs life on a small island with a new baby. Working Urban Mommy vs Stay-at-Home Mama Earth.

Some of our stories are SO different, and yet many of our stories are very similar...and the cool thing about this blog is that not only YOU will all get to read our weekly check-ins...we'll get to see our ongoing new lives as Moms and maybe, just maybe, be able to inspire each other a little to be the best Moms we can be.

We promise to tell a bit about our pregnancies, about the fears around our births, and about the wild ride since our babies entered this world. We'll tell it like it is...with all the mistakes, breakdowns, shoe-throwing, diapers-on-the-wrong-way...WHATEVER comes up on this adventure, we'll share it.