It’s so different the first time.
It makes me crazy when people condescend to new parents, using the tired clichés about how they’ll sterilize the pacifier with the first baby and let the dog lick it with the third.
We know. We’ve heard it. New parents are crazy. Haha let’s make fun of the poor sleep deprived hormonal people whose lives have been cosmically inverted in a way no amount of preparation could possibly have defended against.
I think most new parents do a remarkable job of keeping it together under the circumstances, and I can’t understand why it seems to be open season on them so much of the time.
When Mare was about six weeks old she woke me up very early one morning and would not go back to sleep. So I bundled her up, put her in the stroller and walked her to the coffee shop.
It was so freaking early there was no one at the coffee shop. Like not even the owners. We waited on a little bench in the early North Carolina morning until finally the shop was open and a few customers wandered in. I walked right over to the counter and begged for a tipple-grande some’n-some’n to make me hate the world just a little less.
“How old is she?” a woman asked me.
“Six weeks,” I smiled proudly. I was tired, sure, but oh look at that baby! Wasn’t she gorgeous?
“It gets harder, you know,” the woman said. “This is nothing. Wait until toddlerhood. And then school. You’ll look back on this and wish it could be this easy.”
In a myriad of comments over many pregnancies and three children I have never forgotten that one. It wasn’t just insensitive, it was superior, aimed at making me feel stupid for the job I was doing.
I have great respect for the new parents of the world, and huge gratitude for the people along the way in Mare’s first year who cheered me on and never made me feel stupid.
One of my favorites was Dr. Hopkins, our pediatrician. We lived in a pretty poor area, and Dr. Hopkins was aware that a new mother with concerns about her baby might not bring her in to the doctor because of the co-pay. So he had a policy for new mothers – you only paid the co-pay if your baby needed treatment. It kept new mothers coming to him whenever they had a concern, and that was the way he wanted it.
So one Friday morning Mare had been fussy, and she’d been tugging at her ear. I had been waiting for an ear infection — don’t ask me why, because people said kids got those, I suppose — and I wondered if this were it. She fussed, she tugged her ear, I debated what to do.
Finally, I decided to bring her in. He poked, he prodded, he peeked in her ears. She giggled and cooed. I hovered.
He pulled out the yellow patient form and under “diagnosis” he wrote: “FOUND EAR — Dr. JH HOPKINS, M.D.” Under that, he scrawled “(No charge).”
I still have that form in one of Mare’s souvenir boxes. It was a tribute to his great kindness and good humor, and also to how a really good doctor can train a mother.
From the time Mare was only days and weeks old, Dr. Hopkins always asked me my opinion of her progress and general health. I didn’t have a clue, of course, but I developed one in large part because he insisted on it. He taught me that my Mother’s Instinct was a real thing, that he valued it and I should, too.
So I think of Dr. Hopkins often these days. Eden’s billirubin levels go up, her weight goes down, and my Mother’s Instinct tells me that she’s fine. It’s what my babies do. I deal with pediatricians who never consult a Mother’s Instinct and don’t appreciate the advocacy skills Dr. Hopkins taught me. Some of them are spectacularly well educated, but their tone is reminiscent of the woman in the coffee shop: “Just give her a bottle, just do what we say, just, just, just …” like it’s all so simple once you’re as smart as they are.
A million times this week I have been glad this was my third kid. If she had been my first I’d be locked in the bedroom, babbling to myself and crying. Mother’s Instinct soothes my nerves, makes it possible to grill dinner for my family rather than pester Dr. Google about infant weight gain statistics and jaundice. Eden looks fine, and to me she feels fine, and I know that counts for a lot.
Finally, we are back in the care of Dr. Button, our family practitioner with three kids of his own, and a healthy regard for the work parents do.
“I do think this will resolve itself,” he says, staring thoughtfully at my newborn’s mottled yellow tummy. “Keep doing what you’re doing over the weekend – lots of nursing, lots of sun, keep up your own fluids and stuff. “
“Okay,” I say.
“I expect this will be over Monday. Now, if it isn’t – if she’s worse or not appreciably better – then it will be time to start talking about supplementing, maybe going back to the blanket, or even thinking about doing some tests.”
“Okay,” I say. Because he has given me two weeks to try it on my own. Because he has said “thinking” and “talking” not “you will do.” Because he has respected my Mother’s Instinct, treated it as the real breathing thing it is. Because his willingness to go this far means that when he’s not willing to go any further I need to pay attention.
I look at those new mothers, staggering around sleepy-eyed with stained shirts and shell-shocked expressions and I admire them. Motherhood gets a bad rap in many ways, but one of the worst is its reputation as a simple, mindless job. It isn’t. We all start out — no matter how much child care experience we’ve had — not knowing how to do this thing. And from those first moments in the hospital, through the last child’s last graduation, we are given asinine advice and criticism we have to sort through in order to find the help and counsel we need. We have to learn to respect our Mother’s Instinct, and we have to learn when to accept the advice and authority of people who know better than we do.
It’s a brutal job.
Eden is asleep beside me. In a pillow. On her side. I know, don’t start. It’s how she likes it. I am sitting next to her, so I think it’s okay. I hope it’s okay. I do what I can.
In a few minutes the sunbeam we like will make its appearance in the bathroom, and I will lay Eden on her cushy changing pad on the floor right in the middle of it. We’ll spend the day chasing that sunbeam across the floor, nursing, sleeping, a few rounds of Stare at the Baby. Hopefully by tomorrow her weight and color will be okay, Dr. Button will be satisfied and we will officially be released on our own recognizance to go off into life as We Five.
I have a feeling it’s going to be okay.
You are so beautifully articulate. Thank you for pointing this out. I rely on my Mother’s Instinct every day. Our son is a breath-holder. This means that he frequently cries so hard that he turns blue and faints. Sometimes it’s so strong that he has a seizure after the fainting. He has done this since infancy and he’s almost three. He will outgrow it – but in the meantime I have to depend on our doctor’s advice and instructions, and my own instincts.
I too have been the recipient of many pieces of unsolicited advice about how to handle this. Here are a few: “Maybe if you had breastfed him…” or “Well, maybe if YOU would just relax, then he might pick up on that and stop.” Yeah. It has nothing to do with me or what he eats. It’s a reflex in his little body that hasn’t matured yet. But it will. And in the meantime I have gotten good at ignoring crap advice like that, and NOT ignoring what my instincts tell me.
Thanks again for always making me feel better about my own parenting!
Congratulations on the new arrival, and on your trust in your own ability to know what’s best for her. Yr post made me think of this book : “Our Babies, Ourselves: How Biology and Culture Shape the Way We Parent” by Meredith Small (anthropologist).
She looks at how the way we deal with our newborns has been shaped by western culture, and compares it with what’s been going on for millions of years among humans, and is still the norm in many parts of the world, like co-sleeping, nursing patterns etc… I really enjoyed it — v. helpful to shut down some patronizing comments…
Cheers,
Laura (mother of 4)
more than ok .
I do too.
I have to say that Dr. Hopkins policy of holding the co-pay os the most generous and caring thing ever. What a wonderful guy.
I had never heard of this before – but my second daughter was jaundiced the entire time I nursed her. The pediatrician called it “breast-fed jaundice.” Catchy. And she was gaining weight – that kid packed it on. But until I stopped nursing her (thrush that we couldn’t get rid of) she was yellow – and healthy. You’re a good mommy!! Trust your instincts.
As I am not a parent, I can only imagi… hell, I know nothing.
But, this is the most amazing post.
Dr. Hopkins needs to be sainted. And, so do you. You are a wonderful mother.
don’t you love great docs for first time moms–mine was fantastic, and even though i love the med experience of my current doc, and my kids fake sick to see her–she’s not my first pediatrician love. keep it up liz, baby eden and you will work out the pefect situation, and if you need to supplement, but still don’t want to, try some new things too, like the motherlove more milk plus–i do the pills because the other stuff tastes funny to me it really worked in less than 2 days for me. and supplementing can be temporary. that first ped seams like a saint for new moms. if only all docs were this way:)
Emily — I am taking the More Milk Plus — it’s great stuff. I am also drinking a liter of the tea every day. It does do the trick and I highly recommend it. Oh, and oatmeal cookies.
Katie — I had a very good friend whose kid cried non stop for the first six months. My friend is this marvelous, nurturing woman, great big heart, lovely mother. And she’d have given her right arm to make it better for the kid. But the kid just cried, for whatever reason. So many people gave her such incredibly stupid advice that came down to, “If you would only do ‘x’ better.” Good lord, what a thing to say to a person. Your kid is crying/fainting/whatever and it’s all your fault.
Why don’t people just shut up and bring you a snack and praise you? Really, that’s all new mothers want and need. A snack. Some praise.
Thanks for all the nice compliments. Dr. Hopkns really was the most amazing guy. He died a few years ago, and I wondered if his children really understood the legacy their father left. I know of three little girls whose mother was a million times more competent because of him. How many other kids out there got a much better life because of the work he did?
Makes you think about the impact you can have if you really care about your work.
I have wondered the same thing about people who like to make new parents feel like idiots. What’s the point of that? In most cases if people just left me alone, my kids and I have found our way much better.
You are doing a fantastic job.
love the new pics with the flowers. hope the appointment in the morning goes the way you want it to. as easy as new ones are, in many aspects those first 4 or so weeks are harder than any other. sure you can tote them everywhere, pretty much on your schedule–just feeding all the time, but it is such an adjustment for everyone. i don’t know moms are expected to adjust to a new baby overnight, but people take forever to catch on to new things like say an upgrade in facebook.
Oh, the advice. My son, Jack, is 2 now, and is a remarkably difficult child. Even the saintly grandmothers admit he is the hardest child they know. He has always been this way, and I used to sob about all the people that told me I was doing it wrong, that if I was only as smart and perfect as they were, I would be able to fix what ailed him. Now I look them in the eye, smile, and say in a very sincere way (because I really do mean it,) “Okay. I’ll give him to you for the day and you can try that out. Let me know how it goes!” It shuts them up every time.
Children teach you what works for them. Jack slept on his tummy as an infant because that was the only way he would sleep. I didn’t care what anyone said-it’s how he felt comfortable. No one can tell you how to raise your own child. Only a mother knows.
From one mother to another, you are amazing. That is not even a big enough word to describe how I feel about you. From the moment I took a positive pregnancy test I have been reading your blog, and it is all that has kept me grounded in the hard times. Thank you for your honesty, humor, and constant inspiration. You are the mother I hope to be for my son, and you have three beautiful, smart, and lucky daughters. Keep doing what you know is right. It has worked for you, and for all the rest of us out here who feel as though we know you and find solace in your honesty and strength.
Eden is soooo beautiful. *sigh*
Your post was lovely. With a touch of sadness and worry perhaps?
I went through 3 pediatricians before finding our own Dr. Hopkins. She listens to what I say, what I feel and what I fret about. She also TALKS TO MY CHILDREN. One on one. Even when Ava couldn’t do more than fixate on her stethescope.
I hope you will post again with an Eden doctor visit update tomorrow!
Of COURSE it’s going to be ok! You know what you’re doing, girl. Look at those two strong healthy girls you already have.
I had the honour of being with my best friend when she had her first baby a few weeks ago and got to see the “Dr. knows best” machine in motion. Whoa! What a scary thing! I know nothing about babies or childbirth but even I know when someone is using scare tactics and guilt (imagine saying to someone in the midst of labour “if you had been induced like I told you to 2 weeks ago [at 34 weeks] you wouldn’t be in this position now”) to convince someone to do what they want them to. And this was at our city’s most expensive private hospital. Incredible stuff.
Thanks for the update and the only advice I have – which I am sure is the RIGHT and CORRECT advice is – you MUST post more pics!
You and I are on separate realms politically, Elizabeth, but I can say whole-heartedly that I think you’re a great mom. Congratulations to you and your husband! Eden is gorgeous!
As for nasty advice, nothing is worse than mother or mother-in-law advice. My mother has a tendency to condescendingly remark on how I do something wrong and it always makes me shrivel inside. I had a friend once who’s mother and mother-in-law were giving conflicting advice on sleeping positions. She was nearly in tears when I told her that this was one of the hardest parts of parenting. I said it then, I’ll say it until I’m blue in the face till every mom hears me, “Every mom, every child, every family is different.” And you’re absolutely right, a good pediatrician can make all the difference in the world. God bless all Docs who listen to Mother’s Instincts!
Like others have said: beautiful post. Touched my heart.
Just recently, my brother and my sister-in-law had their first baby. Sister-in-law called often for advice and I always tried to make her feel like she was doing a great job (even if she sooo didn’t feel like it). And yes, I did tell her that whatever she felt like, she knew what to do. I told her to trust her instinct. I tried to be for her, what I wished someone had been for me then. Last Christmas, she wrote me such a beautiful letter thanking me for the soundboard I had been for her.
You should definilty send this post to Dr Hopkins’ kids. Well, one day that is… when you have time to try to track them down. I think it would mean a lot to them.
Gen (Maman of 4)
AMEN! My first child (and only so far) is 16 months old. The first Pediatrician we saw for a regular check up was Dr. Connolley. I will never forget that he put his hand on my shoulder and told me to trust my Mother’s Intuition. That I was her MOM and I knew her better than anyone else. Never to let anyone tell me otherwise. I’m sure he didn’t say it just like that, but it was close, and it stuck. I tried other Peds in the group but he’s the one I came back to when the Ear Infections got to be too much. He, too, is teaching me how to be her advocate.
Mother’s Instincts should never be underestimated. It all started when well meaning triage nurses told me I was incontinent when I told them I was leaking amniotic fluid. It was a high tear, so I leaked, not gushed. For three days I tried to get someone to believe I wasn’t peeing myself. Right then and there, I learned, momma knows best. With my 2 yr old son, I knew there was something wrong with him even though no one could find anything, I found his tumor, he has/had kidney cancer. When they said it was the chemo getting him down, my mommy radar was going crazy, I knew something was wrong. I didn’t give up till they admitted him, they operated 12 hours before he would have lost part of his bowel to a bowel obstruction caused by his tumor removal and radiation. Excellent advice, always trust your mommy instincts.
I love my pediatrician, she let’s me report my children’s temperature via mommy thermometer. She said she read a clinical study that showed mom’s could guess their child’s temperature within a 1 degree rang with 90% accuracy. The nurses give me a hard time, but she just smiles. Always find a pediatrician who has confidence in you.
Dr. Toci, my GP in London was my Dr Hopkins. When moving to Canada he was in my top 5 sorely missed people. I always sat down for a conversation with him. He let me have the time to talk things out with him and he always asked about…me- shock! My husband would always joke that I had a crush on Dr Toci because I gushed about his great practitioning….
Go Team Eden. Say no to yellow!
My youngest had the same problem with jaundice with breastfeeding for the first month after he was born. My doctor is very good- and knows that since Kjell was my 4th, that my mother’s instinct was good. As long as he was gaining, looked healthy and responded as he should, my Dr didn’t make us do anything else. I’m glad you have a good Dr. this time around too.
The new picture of you and Eden is priceless!
Nothing amused me more than the idiot comments from people when you are out and about with an infant. I had easy kids and have alway been way too confident about life, so their comments did nothing but humor me. But I did think about the impact they could have on a sleep deprived hormonal woman who was very concerned that she was doing it all wrong. So now I try to keep my trap shut.
You are a great mom and they are all lucky to have you. And your new pictures are spectacular! (But what about Mare, does she get a new glam shot too?)
My Little Man dropped from the 80th percentile for weight at birth, to just below the 50th.
Happily I had a great Health Visitor, who said that if she were just to look at the notes, she would be concerned, but if she looked at *him* then obviously he was fine.
And I kept quiet about the *other* percentile charts issued by the WHO. The ones that are weight against *height* rather than age. (Which makes far more sense, if you think about it.) Because on *that* one, he was suddenly on the 4th percentile, as he was so SO tall.
It all depends on the charts that the health professionals are given to use. And what they are focussed on.
You are doing such a fab job. And I am sure Mare and Ren will vouch for you being the best mum Eden could think to have.
Wonderful post. I also had a wonderful, caring, phenomenal pediatrician that taught me so much about being a mother. I don’t know if I would be the same person, much less the same mother, without his wonderful and patient advice. Facing an out of state career move with two children under 3 and the thing that hit me the hardest was having to leave his practice. Forget the friends and family, I didn’t want to leave the pediatrician. Here’s to the kind souls who do more than just treat our kids.
Good luck, Eden! We know your momma knows best. She’s beautiful, Liz. Congrats.
so beautiful. what a wonderful first pediatrician to have, and what a sweet way to pass that trust and sense of self on to the rest of us. thank you.
(I love the new pictures on the sidebar, by the way. Amazing.)
As always, you can put into words what is floating around in my head as a jumbled mess. If only we could all have a Dr Hopkins.
You are so right. Everything you wrote about new mothers sorting through asinine advice and blubbering in a dark room because somebody said their baby was losing too much weight or needed to supplement with formula, was me. I didn’t know I had a mother’s instinct and it took me about 7 weeks to find it. Luckily we too had an amazing pediatrician who believed in our instincts once we found them and knew that we were more often right than not. Why do so many people feel they can offer advice on raising children to complete strangers? And why is that advice often super negative and scary? UGH.
I know your little Eden will be just fine, because she has an amazing mom and an amazing support system that would never let anything happen to her!!
I want to give you a hug and say,”Don’t Worry.” But, you will. It shows what kind of mom you are. For those of us already through the trenches, Eden will work through this and it will be because of you and your wise and loving Momma instincts. My Dr. Hopkins was the, above and beyond, Dr. Cohen who passed away, sadly, well before old age. He left me with the sage knowledge that mothers truly are the unsung heroes of humanity and that it is only because of our spot-on instinct that the world goes on. There is no on the job training for bringing life into the world and molding these innocent beings into responsible, healthy, loving people. Skilled doctors with little empathy don’t help matters. You, My Dear, rock. As do we all, all the mothers, learning as we go.
Oh Liz, I’m so sorry, but I have some advice for you!
The patch of sunlight you’re chasing, is the window open? (It’s still pretty cold here for us, so our windows are not open yet.) Because you don’t get much UV rays through glass. I’m just sayin’.
I had a good post-partum experience with our midwife too. She even made sure that my Mommy Instincts were in good working order, realizing that it’s not always automatic.
we chased the sunlight with Jack too. You are doing a fantastic job with her. Keep at it and stick to your instincts! BTW I totally agree about the tea/more milk plus. I had a reduction when I was 14 and with the help of that stuff I was able to nurse both my boys
Oh, yeah, we got the SAME comment – when he was only TWO weeks old, on our first public outing to what we thought would be a safe and welcoming community (our synagogue).
I have to restrain myself from bitch-slapping that man every time I see him.
Don’t have kids yet, trying, but I still love your blog.
I work at Toys R Us, love my job most of the time. Had a somewhat harried family in my store they other day with 6 boys, ages 10 to 14 to months. And it looked like she was expecting another one.
After helping them out with what they needed I saw the mom again over by the bathrooms. So I stopped and told her how wonderful her kids were and well behaved. She looked at me a little funny and said “Really? I didn’t think so.” And I said, “Yep, I work here, I see a lot of kids, your kids are great.”
Her smile was worth it.
I’m pregnant with my first, so I have no motherly experience with a Dr. Hopkins. However, I sure hope I can find a Dr. Johnson – *my* pediatrician when I was a child. My mother still sings the high praises for that man to this day and the mere fact that *I* loved his practice just makes it all the more sweet of a deal.
Knowing that there are other “Dr. Johnsons” out there really gives me hope of finding one for my son!
you. are. brilliant.
You must never forget how right you are to trust your instinct, and mostly, never forget to believe in your ability to just know that things are fine, or not.
As I anxiously and nervously await my 2 year-old’s yearly cardiology appointment and hope that everything will be okay, I remind myself that if she looks and feels okay to me, if she has strived and gotten bigger and brighter since last year’s appointment, then all should be pretty much as it seems: GREAT!
Thanks reminding us to trust and to believe in our Mommyness.
You rock!
I wonder why we all think we are all alone when we get angry with our kids or lose our tempers or feel depressed. We need to pull together and help eachother out more often. Talking about everything is great therapy.