Haters Gonna Hate… Even If Only In My Mind

Somehow, my daughter Tess just turned 1. 

12 months. 
52 weeks. 
365 days. 
525,600 minutes.

Our first glimpse.

December 14, 2012

6pm.

I don’t remember a year ever going by so fast!

The new and improved Jenkins Family!

I know, I know… it’s so clichéd. “Where did the time go?”

Every parent seems to swear that each year goes by faster than the last, and before you know it your kids are walking/reading/driving/dating/graduating/[insert any other major life milestone here]. 

But… for real though… WHERE DID THE TIME GO!?!?!

Taking her home.
December 17, 2012.

Um... do I look excited?!

"Shit, man! It's cold out here!"

At home, in Gramma's arms.

Muuuuch better.

I read once that as a parent the days are long but the time is short. Or something like that. Between the feedings, crying and diaper changes, a day can drag on, but before you know it, your baby is all grown up.

This is a completely accurate description of my last year.  I simultaneously can’t believe a year has passed since Tess came into my life, but some days I almost felt like bedtime couldn’t come soon enough. 

How did she go from this...

to this, so fast???

It’s also unbelievable how much you can pack into a year.  I can’t believe how much I have changed, my life has changed and how much I have learned over the past 12 months. Everything from my career trajectory to my social calendar have taken a complete 180.  I have grown and changed at almost the same rate as Tess. I never knew my full capacity for love until December 14, 2012. The love I feel for her is a kind I didn’t even know existed and could never have fathomed before she came into my life.

From this moment forward,

I was never the same.

Before that, I was SERIOUSLY terrified of parenthood and had no idea what was coming. I didn’t even babysit as a kid. My friends didn’t have kids. My sister raised 3 boys, but I honestly can’t even tell you if I ever changed a diaper. If I ever interacted with kids I never seemed to identify age appropriate conversation. I’d meet an 8 year old and use baby talk, I would encounter a 2 year old and would ask if they’ve seen the news out of Baghdad that day.  I just couldn’t figure it out.

I didn’t know anything about breastfeeding or sleep training or tummy time or anything. I couldn’t tell you what to look for in a high chair, a stroller or baby carrier. Now, I could wax lyrical about the magic of an exersaucer, installing a car seat and what you want in a changing table. Still, I’m really only just keeping up with Tess’ stage of development as we go. I’m never ahead of where we are, and usually learn I should have been engaging her in some activity for a month already.  

But damn, do I know a lot more now than a year ago! I am also much more confident as a parent now than a year ago. I have actually started to trust my own instincts.  I consider that to be one of my greatest accomplishments. Motherly intuition is real! It can be hard to trust yourself… especially when judgment and unsolicited advice are everywhere. But you just need to just find a way to let it roll off your back.

When I was pregnant, I would get “You know you shouldn’t eat cold cuts when you’re pregnant, right?” While actively eating a turkey sandwich. I’d be asked if I were using the Lamaze or Bradley methods, would admit I didn’t know what that meant, and get looks of shock in return. Or get “You just HAVE to get a doula!” I did a boring old hospital birth with an OB… oh, the horror! But if I did a hippie dippie home birth with incense aromatherapy and a witch doctor, I’d get equally judgmental stares from a different set of people.  Everyone has an idea about what is right, so no matter what you do someone is going to disagree or disapprove.

I thought it was bad when I was pregnant. It only gets worse once the kid arrives!

C-section? You were swindled by your quack doctor. You are still nursing and have the occasional adult beverage? Child abuse. Sleep training? You’re cruel. Not walking at 1 year? Uh oh…

Walking practice during the Macy's Day Parade.

She's working on marching in it next year.

Tess had her first encounter with really bad diaper rash recently, and I was so ashamed. I didn’t want anyone to find out. I was so afraid people would blame it on my cloth diapers, which was basically an extension of me and my parenting choices.

I am also convinced Facebook is one big forum for bragging about your baby’s milestones - first smile, first roll over, first word, first steps, etc. I feel like every time I log on, everyone else’s baby is developing and mine is just sitting here in a shitty diaper. 

"Guess what I got over here for ya, Mom!"

The parental judgment out there is so rampant, that even when people aren’t actually judging, I think they are. Even when someone isn’t necessarily bragging about some major milestone their child has reached, I get competitive about what someone’s baby is able to do in a photo or story they share.

For example, I follow Gisele Bundchen on Instagram, and I remember she once posted a photo of herself doing yoga next to her baby who is just a couple weeks older than Tess. Baby Brady was sitting up unassisted while Mom was looking very zen, performing some leggy asana next to her. At the time, Tess was sitting unassisted, but I would have to be there ready to catch her since she would usually end up reaching for some toy and topple over.  There was certainly no yoga or meditation for me while Tess was practicing her sitting.

I felt like Gisele was waving her perfect, genius baby in my face, telling me I’m doing everything wrong because my developmentally delayed baby can’t be trusted to not faceplant during my yoga session. Her caption might as well have been, “#mybabyisbetterthanyours @drmj13 #namastebitch”

What is wrong with me? I don’t even do yoga!!! Where did that jealousy come from?

Why do we – women, mostly - feel the need to constantly compare ourselves to others? We can obsess over how quickly another mom loses her baby weight, or the fancy school another sends her kids to. Why do we feel such immense guilt because we didn’t do Gymboree, went back to work at 8 weeks or didn’t breastfeed?

Andy doesn’t come home and tell me he saw on Facebook that so-and-so’s baby has a vocabulary of 25 words, and Ohmygodwhatiswrongwithus?! So why do I? Why do women so often feel inadequate in the face of another’s success?

           

Is it just because I am home with Tess full-time that I feel mostly responsible for her development milestones? Perhaps… but I am certainly self-conscious about more than my parenting abilities.  I constantly questioned my abilities while I was working in a research lab, compared my productivity to everyone around me. I am constantly comparing my figure to those around me. My crazy runs deep, people!

I LOVE Tess' adorable, perfect, beautiful double chin

and kissable chubby cheeks.

Why should I hate my own?!

Is it maybe because I myself am quick to judge? I hate to admit that but I know that I am. Even while watching Homeland this season, I would shake my head and think “tsk tsk… all that stress isn’t good for your fetus, Carrie Matheison.” Then immediately scold myself, because that was so judgey and OH YEA, SHE IS A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN A TV SHOW!!!

But I also think it’s deeper than any of that. Women suffer from what psychologists call “imposter syndrome,” a constant feeling of self-doubt despite great ability or achievement.  We fear the day the jig is up, and we are exposed for the frauds we really are. We underestimate our strengths and overestimate our weaknesses, shown in study after study.

I certainly don’t need studies to convince me I struggle with feelings of inadequacy! But I am starting to try to accept that every pregnancy, birth and baby is different.  Of course, I would have loved to not have had a C-section, to have done a better job of encouraging Tess to get over her hatred of tummy time her first few weeks of life and for baby signing to actually be working.  But, when I start to feel self-doubt I try to put everyone else out of my mind and concentrate on what I know. 

For example, when it comes to self-doubt about my C-section, after 42 weeks of pregnancy, and 2 attempted inductions that included 50+ hours of pitocin, ineffective contractions, and cervix softeners, my cervix did not dilate at ALL. Not even a little. Tess was only coming out one way and it wasn’t the traditional route. I have to constantly remind myself that I didn’t give up on a “natural birth.” I even left the hospital after my first induction and waited at home for over a week for things to happen naturally! Do you know how hard that was?  To admit myself to the hospital thinking I would be leaving with a baby in my car seat and then to leave 3 days later with that baby still in my belly??? There is one word for what that was, people - a total mindfuck. 

During induction 1.

During induction 2.

I got EVEN BIGGER! 

Yikes.

I know I need to learn to relax about the other milestones that I feel like everyone else is meeting but Tess. She is 1 and I don’t think she is going to be walking any time soon.  But, the truth is… life is easier with a baby who can’t walk.  I might as well revel in it.

Not only that, but Tess is the best damn baby ever, milestones or no! She is awesome at sleeping. And eating! My two personal favorite activities. She loves to explore, never sits still and always wants to be inspecting something or figuring something out. I know that eventually that will motivate her to learn to walk.

Look at this baby, 

she loves chili so much she coated herself in it!

She is also super social - just the happiest, most smiley baby on Earth with an awesome sense of humor. OK I can’t get her to catch on with baby signing, hell… I can’t even get this kid to wave back at me – but she certainly communicates in her own way. She laughs hysterically at me while I frantically wave at her like a damn fool. And gives kisses. She strings together long sequences of baby chatter while she eats or plays or when she wakes up from a nap. And it all melts my heart with pride each time.

I’m definitely growing as a parent as Tess is growing and developing into a toddler. While Tess is trying to learn to walk I’ll be trying to not give a damn about what every other baby on the planet is up to. I just wonder who will meet their next “milestone” first…