my mom

Jonah’s NeNe.

I have always been close to my mom. She was an only child and her mother, my bubbe, passed away when I was 1 year old. I am her only daughter. That means we are each the principle woman in the other’s life.

She came to London for three weeks to help before the birth, witness the birth and most importantly, to help us after. To say that she helped is an understatement of epic proportions. For two weeks I cried, fought fatigue, sat in pain and stared endlessly at the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me- Jonah. All the while my mother was in the wings assuring me, listening to me and loving my son fiercely as a new grandmother.

Each day in the hospital my mom would walk back & forth from our flat to support us during the long days of our learning curves. She would bring mail and messages from our loved ones, screen calls, bring treats, fetch midwives and entertain visitors. She learned to navigate a foreign neighborhood far from home. She helped us wile away the days of trying to wrap our heads around the life change and acted as our ace photojournalist. When we returned home, our flat was clean and homey, laundry would appear clean and folded, home-cooked meals nourished us when we were too busy to remember to shop or cook, errands were run by her every day and I am pretty sure at least 50 times a day I asked her to do something and 100 times a day she was jumping up to help. She was my gatekeeper to what I should have been doing and what I should have been avoiding. She waited to give advice or to hold the baby until it was solicited. She kept her own promise of being a support and a witness. In the most quiet moments I would catch her singing to Jonah and telling him the kind of wonderful and fantastical stories only a grandparent can conjure.

She soothed my breakdowns and in the quiet moments she shared a lot about the births of me and my brothers, what those early days were like for her, how we were as babies and the joys she has experienced as a mother. The stories and conversations are one of the things I will look back on and treasure from Jonah’s first weeks.

My stepdad joined us here for part of the time and received the wonderful gift of becoming a grandfather for the first time. Dan has no kids of his own, and I think was surprised at how powerful and good it feels to be Jonah’s buyuk baba. We are lucky to have him too. Jonah is already loved by many.

My mom was there in the room and watched him be born and she was the first grandparent to hold him. It was an honor I know she deeply respects. I want to be a mother that loves her children the way my mother loves hers. A book can tell me how to breastfeed but only my mother can make me believe I am doing a good job, and that I am a beautiful mom.

My mom left London on Friday and I missed her before she even went.

(mj out)

The first tape I ever bought during the first parent-free excursion I ever had with friends was Michael Jackson’s Bad in 1987 at Ballston Common Mall when I was in sixth grade. I remember Jamel was there, and Edson/Melvin. I haven’t thought of those guys in two decades so it’s weird what a strong memory of a pop star can do for you. Also weird that a kid in my elementary school had two different names.

R.I.P. MJ. I had tickets to see you August 12. So close. So. Close.

the beginning, chapter 1: 13 june 2009

Best. Day. Ever.

the beginning, prologue: the end that was actually the beginning

No, not the conception.

It won’t surprise anyone to know that I have approximately 800 photos of my pregnancy. Because it was my first one, I was sort of constantly amazed at the state of the stomach and the fun daily challenge of trying to look cute. It helped that my sister-in-law and two girlfriends lent me some awesome mat clothes. I always took pride when people at work would remark that I was still wearing heels or boots and still running around. Which sort of leads me to my point here.

I had a great pregnancy. Basically perfect. And as the days pass (10 now?) where I am not pregnant, it makes me even more grateful at the nine months before. I can’t believe Jonah fit in there. I can’t believe my body did all the things it was supposed to. I wish I knew who to thank.

One of the pros (there are many) of a scheduled C-section is that you know in advance the moment your baby will be born. So you can plan your Last Day of Pregnancy, your Last Supper, your morning of… Bryan and I spent two Fridays ago with a nice lunch out and then sat in Paddington Park and mused on what was to come and said peace out to a beautiful pregnancy. That night we had dinner with my mom. Then Saturday morning before go-time, I danced with my huge belly to MIA’s Paper Planes at full volume, and then I was ready. We grabbed our bags, got a black cab and off we went.

father’s day

My first post since announcing the great event of Jonah coming into our lives, and surely I should finally catch “the world” up on the sweet last days of my pregnancy, the morning of June 13, the ease of the C-section and the love I have for my doctors and the hospital, the hotel-like conditions of where I gave birth and the ensuing photo shoot that was part of our package (yes, a hair & make-up person for me was included!). I should mention the first week of our baby’s life and the way it is all true- the overpowering love and devotion, the sleeplessness and pain, the emotions, the learning curves, the way breastfeeding can consume you. I should mention Jonah’s first visitors and his many gifts and cards in the mail. The Skype and telephone calls, the love he gets from home and away, the sheer number of adorable clothes I get to dress him in daily, his nose that is delicious enough to eat, our first foray to the park and my initial doubts about city living for a baby (I will master this stroller), the way we all stare at him for hours, the to-do list that I never get to each day, the 500 photos I wish I was sharing, the way my mother has gotten us through this time, the decibel level of my son’s shrieks when all we want to do at 3am is sleep and the fear we have to be so far away from all the people that could help us get through these early days and love on us. And I must be forgetting something.

This is my blog so I get to talk about Jonah all week. And I should start from the beginning (no, not the conception), but the beginning of two weeks ago.

But instead, I want to say Happy Father’s Day to Bryan.

I knew ten years ago he would be the father my children should have. He has proven it in the last 9 days. He changes a mean nappy and is J’s favorite person to spit up on. The euphoria that Jonah brings me is almost matched by the joy I get watching him with his dad. My beautiful man and my beautiful boy.

jonah samuel

joined us Saturday 13 June at 10:51am GMT. I am getting the feeling from him he doesn’t think I should blog this week.