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I received several encouraging e-mails after my post “Could I really be someone’s mother?" It’s comforting to know lots of moms feel unsure and nervous about motherhood.
One friend sent me the following poem and I found it particularly touching. It’s important to remember God sends us our children. He has a plan for their lives and it includes us as their parents. For some reason, God gave me Katherine. He has a great plan for her life and needs me to be her mother and help her fulfill that plan.
A newborn's conversation with God
A baby asked God, 'They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow, but how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?' God said, 'Your angel will be waiting for you and will take care of you.'
The child further inquired, 'But tell me, here in heaven I don't have to do anything but sing and smile to be happy.' God said, 'Your angel will sing for you and will also smile for you. And you will feel your angel's love and be very happy.'
Again the child asked, 'And how am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me if I don't know the language?' God said, 'Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will ever hear, and with much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak.'
'And what am I going to do when I want to talk to yo u?' God said, 'Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray.'
'Who will protect me?' God said, 'Your angel will defend you even if it means risking its life.'
'But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore.' God said, 'Your angel will always talk to you about Me and will teach you the way to come back to Me, even though I will always be next to you.'
At that moment there was much peace in Heaven, but voices from Earth could be heard and the child hurriedly asked, 'God, if I am to leave now, please tell me my angel's name.'
God said, 'You will simply call her, 'Mom.'
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Snow in Ohio
Katherine and I spent two weeks visiting my family in Ohio. To my delight, it snowed about 3 inches one day. It was just enough snow to be pretty and for sledding down the driveway! And Katherine had a chance to wear her pink snowsuit.
Could I really be someone's mother?
Motherhood is by far the most difficult of life’s transitions. All other events in my life – the ones I thought were huge – pale in comparison: two college degrees, moving across the country, getting married, buying houses. None of these events have taken such a toll on me as realizing I’m someone’s mother.
Some women just seem to fall naturally into being a mom. They barely seem to flinch when it comes to taking care of a baby. Sure, some women probably put on a good show but I truly believe there are a group of women for whom motherhood is a calling. You know those women who have dreamed of having a baby since they were little girls playing with dolls. You know the moms who change diapers and wipe dirty faces without so much as a second thought.
I haven’t quite hit that stage just yet. And the jury is still out on whether I ever will. I have a beautiful baby girl. I was there to hear her first cries. I know she’s mine but I can’t help but feel as if I’m babysitting. Could I really be someone’s mother?
I’ve never been particularly domestic. I’m not a very good cook. I don’t do anything that requires a needle and thread. I’m not overly fond of cleaning (although I like a clean house). Let’s just say, June Cleaver I am not. So staying home all day with a baby has been tough for me. I just don’t see myself as a stay-at-home mom.
Next week I go back to the office and feel I’m ready. I’ve invested years of energy into my career and just can’t abandon it. In many ways, it was my first child. I’m hoping all goes well as I return to work and Katherine enters daycare in a couple of weeks. Will I feel some guilt for not being there for every moment of her early life? I’m sure I will. But would I feel even more guilt for not following what I believe is the best motherhood path for me? One of my friends says she believes she is a better mother because she works. I think it’s important for us to recognize our strengths and our weaknesses. Can I be a good mom and a working mom? I’ll certainly try my best.
These early weeks of being a mom haven’t come easily for me. They have been filled with doubts, questions and tears. But a little smile from my daughter helps – at least for a moment – ease some of the doubts and brush away a few tears.
Some women just seem to fall naturally into being a mom. They barely seem to flinch when it comes to taking care of a baby. Sure, some women probably put on a good show but I truly believe there are a group of women for whom motherhood is a calling. You know those women who have dreamed of having a baby since they were little girls playing with dolls. You know the moms who change diapers and wipe dirty faces without so much as a second thought.
I haven’t quite hit that stage just yet. And the jury is still out on whether I ever will. I have a beautiful baby girl. I was there to hear her first cries. I know she’s mine but I can’t help but feel as if I’m babysitting. Could I really be someone’s mother?
I’ve never been particularly domestic. I’m not a very good cook. I don’t do anything that requires a needle and thread. I’m not overly fond of cleaning (although I like a clean house). Let’s just say, June Cleaver I am not. So staying home all day with a baby has been tough for me. I just don’t see myself as a stay-at-home mom.
Next week I go back to the office and feel I’m ready. I’ve invested years of energy into my career and just can’t abandon it. In many ways, it was my first child. I’m hoping all goes well as I return to work and Katherine enters daycare in a couple of weeks. Will I feel some guilt for not being there for every moment of her early life? I’m sure I will. But would I feel even more guilt for not following what I believe is the best motherhood path for me? One of my friends says she believes she is a better mother because she works. I think it’s important for us to recognize our strengths and our weaknesses. Can I be a good mom and a working mom? I’ll certainly try my best.
These early weeks of being a mom haven’t come easily for me. They have been filled with doubts, questions and tears. But a little smile from my daughter helps – at least for a moment – ease some of the doubts and brush away a few tears.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Welcome, Katherine
OK, I haven't blogged in a few weeks but I have a good reason. On Feb. 2, we welcomed Katherine Grace Fisher into the world. Weighing in at 8 pounds and 1 ounce and stretching 20 inches, she was born at 11:01 a.m. She surprised Clint and I by having a full head of dark brown hair.
I went into labor at 5 a.m. that morning and we arrived at the hospital at about 6:30 a.m. Clint asked if he could stop for Starbucks on the way. I gave him a dirty look between blinding contractions.
At about 10 a.m., the doctor decided she was feeling a behind and not a head, which meant I was immediately prepped for a C-section. I was awake for the surgery, although couldn't see anything behind the curtain (not that I really wanted to, thank you very much) and Clint was sitting by my head. Within 10 minutes, we heard our baby's first cries.
Clint was able to watch Katherine get weighed and held her in the nursey while I was stitched up. While in the recovery room, I held my daughter for the first time. We continued to marvel over her hair and how big she was. Clint was absolutely beaming.
The rest of the day is a bit of a Percoset-induced haze for me. Lots of my family came from Ohio and friends stopped by over the next few days.
The last three weeks have been an incredible adjustment. I've found motherhood is one tough job, making my daily work in journalism seem like a breeze.
Katherine grows and changes each day. She's quite active and really alert for a such a little person. Of course, that means she's going to be a genius.
Katherine has her own Web site, which Daddy plans to update soon.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
The love of a good dog
I’ve been wondering if Mocha and Belle can sense their lives are about to be seriously disrupted by a new human sister.
Having the two foster dogs for a few months may have been good practice for them. (Side note: The two foster dogs had to go other foster homes since I couldn’t possibly conceive of having four dogs, a newborn and family in from out of town all at once.)
I let the girls go in the nursery and sniff around. No doubt they will sniff the baby from head to toe several times just to make sure she’s an acceptable new pack member.
We also made sure we invested in a diaper device that seals the dirty diapers in a closed up can. Belle has a tendency to explore the trash and may find, as only a dog can, dirty diapers ever so appealing.
So in honor of Mocha and Belle – soon to be protecting their newest pack member – here’s a nice take on dogs that someone forwarded me a in an e-mail some time back.
If I Didn’t Have Pets:
• I could walk around the yard barefoot in safety.
• All flat surfaces, clothing, furniture, and cars would be free of hair.
• When the doorbell rings, it wouldn't sound like the kennels.
• When the doorbell rings, I could get to the door without wading through fuzzy bodies who beat me there.
• I would not have strange presents under my Christmas tree -- dog bones, stuffed animals, nor would I have to answer to people why I wrap them.
• The most used words in my vocabulary would not be: out, sit, down, come, no, stay, and leave him/her/it ALONE.
• My pockets would not contain things like poop bags, treats and an extra leash.
• I would no longer have to spell the words B-A-L-L-, F-R-I-S-B-E-E, or W-A-L-K.
• I would not have as many leaves INSIDE my house as outside.
• I would not look strangely at people who think having ONE dog ties them down too much.
• I would not have to answer the question:: "Why do you have so many dogs/animals?" from people who will never have the joy in their lives of knowing they are loved unconditionally by something as close to an angel as they will ever get.
Having the two foster dogs for a few months may have been good practice for them. (Side note: The two foster dogs had to go other foster homes since I couldn’t possibly conceive of having four dogs, a newborn and family in from out of town all at once.)
I let the girls go in the nursery and sniff around. No doubt they will sniff the baby from head to toe several times just to make sure she’s an acceptable new pack member.
We also made sure we invested in a diaper device that seals the dirty diapers in a closed up can. Belle has a tendency to explore the trash and may find, as only a dog can, dirty diapers ever so appealing.
So in honor of Mocha and Belle – soon to be protecting their newest pack member – here’s a nice take on dogs that someone forwarded me a in an e-mail some time back.
If I Didn’t Have Pets:
• I could walk around the yard barefoot in safety.
• All flat surfaces, clothing, furniture, and cars would be free of hair.
• When the doorbell rings, it wouldn't sound like the kennels.
• When the doorbell rings, I could get to the door without wading through fuzzy bodies who beat me there.
• I would not have strange presents under my Christmas tree -- dog bones, stuffed animals, nor would I have to answer to people why I wrap them.
• The most used words in my vocabulary would not be: out, sit, down, come, no, stay, and leave him/her/it ALONE.
• My pockets would not contain things like poop bags, treats and an extra leash.
• I would no longer have to spell the words B-A-L-L-, F-R-I-S-B-E-E, or W-A-L-K.
• I would not have as many leaves INSIDE my house as outside.
• I would not look strangely at people who think having ONE dog ties them down too much.
• I would not have to answer the question:: "Why do you have so many dogs/animals?" from people who will never have the joy in their lives of knowing they are loved unconditionally by something as close to an angel as they will ever get.
Look at what I've done for you
We’re down to the final two weeks. Now, it’s just a waiting game, which is incredibly unnerving for someone like me who thrives on planning and structure. But unfortunately, babies don’t really give any hints as to when they might like to make their grand entrance.
I have been thinking about some of the things I’ve given up during my pregnancy. I thought it might be nice to compile a list, giving me something to pull out when my daughter is, say 8 years old and won’t clean her room, or is 16 and tries to back talk. I can pull these out of the mom guilt closet:
• I cut back on caffeine, going to Starbucks only once a week or less.
• My exercise routine went downhill in a big way because I either felt too ill, tired or fat to do anything.
• I gained 30 pounds.
• I stopped wearing high heels. I’m the person who sacrifices comfort for style and is drawn to the highest heels I can find. This was a biggie.
• I scaled back on some extracurricular activities and volunteer work.
• I traded in normal clothes for a limited wardrobe of elastic-waist pants and unexciting tops.
• I shed a lot of tears worrying about whether I’ll be a good mother.
•I didn’t eat hotdogs or blue cheese salad dressing for months.
I think that’s a good starting point. Surely some of those will inspire a child to clean her room or whip a teenager into shape. Well, at least I can try.
I have been thinking about some of the things I’ve given up during my pregnancy. I thought it might be nice to compile a list, giving me something to pull out when my daughter is, say 8 years old and won’t clean her room, or is 16 and tries to back talk. I can pull these out of the mom guilt closet:
• I cut back on caffeine, going to Starbucks only once a week or less.
• My exercise routine went downhill in a big way because I either felt too ill, tired or fat to do anything.
• I gained 30 pounds.
• I stopped wearing high heels. I’m the person who sacrifices comfort for style and is drawn to the highest heels I can find. This was a biggie.
• I scaled back on some extracurricular activities and volunteer work.
• I traded in normal clothes for a limited wardrobe of elastic-waist pants and unexciting tops.
• I shed a lot of tears worrying about whether I’ll be a good mother.
•I didn’t eat hotdogs or blue cheese salad dressing for months.
I think that’s a good starting point. Surely some of those will inspire a child to clean her room or whip a teenager into shape. Well, at least I can try.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Stick a fork in me
With about three weeks to go until my Feb. 6 due date, I'm officially done with being pregnant.
The last few weeks, in particular, have been, well, miserable. My stomach feels like a 100-pound lead weight, my back hurts, I have indigestion when I eat, I pee every two hours (or less) and I can't possibly get comfortable enough to get a decent night's sleep.
This baby should feel free to arrive anytime. I'm ready. I realize after she arrives, I'll still be a physical mess and my lack of sleep won't be due to frequent bathroom trips but to frequent feedings and diaper changes. But, at least it will be a new stage of discomfort.
After months of planning, worrying, stressing, shopping and preparing for her arrival, I'm just ready for the big day. This last month is definitely tough. I'm beginning to seriously question the sanity of women who choose to go through this multiple times. Their minds must just block out the misery and choose instead to focus on the joys of parenthood.
The last few weeks, in particular, have been, well, miserable. My stomach feels like a 100-pound lead weight, my back hurts, I have indigestion when I eat, I pee every two hours (or less) and I can't possibly get comfortable enough to get a decent night's sleep.
This baby should feel free to arrive anytime. I'm ready. I realize after she arrives, I'll still be a physical mess and my lack of sleep won't be due to frequent bathroom trips but to frequent feedings and diaper changes. But, at least it will be a new stage of discomfort.
After months of planning, worrying, stressing, shopping and preparing for her arrival, I'm just ready for the big day. This last month is definitely tough. I'm beginning to seriously question the sanity of women who choose to go through this multiple times. Their minds must just block out the misery and choose instead to focus on the joys of parenthood.
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