Poem: For the Other Mothers
Dedication: This poem is dedicated to all the mothers in Canada, India, and St. Vincent and The Grenadines currently experiencing adverse conditions.
This is a balm,
or maybe a kind of Psalm.
This is for the depressed mothers,
for the anxious and breathless mothers.
I see you,
I feel you,
I AM you.
This is for the restless mothers.
For the childless,
motherless mothers
mother.
I see you,
I feel you,
I AM you.
This is for the abused mothers.
For the estranged and misused mothers.
For the tired,
“My life is a mess!”
mothers.
I see you.
This is for the abandoned mothers,
the absent, halfway dead mothers.
For the focused,
trying to make ends meet
mothers.
I feel you.
For the poised,
and proper mothers.
For the emotional mothers.
The red, yellow,
black and white,
ALL are precious,
in His sight mothers.
I AM you.
I stand with you,
Forever, for always
eternally yours.
Mother.
The Milk Factory is Closed
I never thought I would jump for joy, plotting how I can make a mini celebration to commemorate the end of my breastfeeding journey.
But I am. My son is 19 months and I remember a friend encouraging me a few months ago, saying if I talk to him and explain that he’s a big boy and he doesn’t need this anymore, he will understand. I pulled that trick out of my hat last week and it worked! Along with other strategies of course.
What did NOT work, was being away from him for a week. A few other moms told me to try this but it just didn’t work for me. When I returned from Germany after being gone for a week, he demanded to nurse and was hysterical when I refused him. He even started to reach into my shirt. That was cute for an hour and was also my limit.
What also worked and really was the secret sauce to this finale, was the thing that made breastfeeding successful to begin with: My Mom.
She was here the week I returned and basically frowned at me for “giving in.” She pressed me, “Erykah stop. You have to stop.” I wanted to stop for a while, but kept giving in because it was easier to say yes than no.
My mom knew it was time and helped me get to the finish line. Her mere presence just made me feel more confident to stop.
But the really cool thing, is that when my son was 2 weeks old, she came to visit us in the thick of my struggles and almost like magic, breastfeeding clicked for me.
She gave me the tough talk that many Caribbean moms give their daughters, “Breastfeeding is hard but you have to do it.“You young women today have it easy. It was much harder for us. Just do it.”
I never imagined myself breastfeeding for this long but I am so proud I made it this far.
That I mastered the art of breastfeeding.
A skill I doubted I would even have. But I did it. I did it! And I am so proud of myself for staying on a journey that was painfully challenging in the beginning.
I Live in Black
I get what mom jeans are now. I really do. I never understood what they meant or how they came into being but I get it now.
I understand it because my personal style has changed after pushing that six pound baby out of me—for all of 10 minutes (I’m very proud of those 10 minutes). It started to change during pregnancy as my body took on a new form. I had to learn about shopping in the maternity section (there are half decent options), sifting through clothes that matched my new shape.
For most of pregnancy I was in hermit mode, partly because I didn’t like my style. I also didn’t care to buy a ton of maternity clothes because I knew it was very temporary.
I lost interest in clothing and became more introspective— as many pregnant women do.
Maintaining a personal style was a low priority for me. Which has caused my style to be in suspension for the past two years. I’ll be honest, that has been rough.
Now I am starting to see that I have more space in my head to think deeply about clothes and how I want to feel in them.
I have always loved black.
I can do patterns and pops of colour here and there but in general I just like dark clothes. In the thick of my postpartum period I gravitated towards black, gray and denim.
It was easy and black has always made me feel confident and pulled together.
Whether becoming a mom of one or four I think a woman goes through a shift with every pregnancy. But perhaps the biggest shift happens when you become a first time mom because it’s brand new.
This is an experience that you have never had before and you have nothing else to compare it to except for stories from other people. It is natural and perfectly normal for a woman’s style to take a back seat during this transitional period.
Life is shifting, you’re thinking about diaper changes, feedings, what brand of products to use and the list goes on. For myself and plenty other women clothes just don’t make it to the top of the list.
My style at this stage in my motherhood is a work in progress. It’s evolving and I’m still trying to figure out what I’m drawn to and what I’m happy leaving on the rack.
I’m still very comfortable in my black though. It’s my staple, it’s my go-to, my tried and true and I can never go wrong with it. Although some people are trying to encourage me to add some colour to my life. I’ll think about it :).
Lessons from my 10 month-old
The other day my baby unicorn was playing with some blocks in his playpen. I noticed him throwing a block out of the pen and reaching for it through an opening.
Once he made contact, he maneuvered his tiny hands around the block to firm up his grip on it. With the block in his hand, he stood up and quickly threw it over the playpen.
He repeated this over and over again.
Sometimes when the block was out of reach, I nudged it a little closer for him. He did not cry or fuss. Patiently he repeated his ritual of throwing, reaching, and grabbing. I was amazed. I was actually in the middle of brainstorming my goals for 2018 while he was doing this.
Looking over at him playing this game of ‘throw the block’ it hit me—there is a connection between his block throwing and my goal setting. Goals have always terrified me. I used to feel that writing them down guaranteed I would not achieve them, so I avoided the subject altogether., all because of fear.
I’m still afraid.
But the good news is, I am mindfully working my way through changing my perspective. I’m not 100% where I want to be with goal setting but I am becoming so much more comfortable with the practice.
5 Goal Setting Lessons from a 10 Month-Old
1. Just be cool about it.
My ADHD brain tells me goal setting is this big ordeal. I am realizing it isn’t. When my son was playing with his block he was very calm and relaxed. He didn’t laugh or make much noise. He just played. I am going to take the same attitude with goal setting. Show up to the session and just play.
2. Start With A Distance You Know You Can Manage
At first he threw the block within close range; he didn’t have to stretch too far to pick it up. Watching him I learned that goal setting is less intimidating when the targets are relatively easy to achieve. The objective is just to get used to the practice of setting and achieving.
3. Go Further After A Few Wins
Once he got into a rhythm of reaching for the block through the rails, I noticed he started to throw the block further away. The determination on his face was amazing. The lesson in that for me is to get into a rhythm of achieving small wins and then begin to practice what it feels like to achieve goals that are slightly bigger.
4. Move On, Then Come Back
He made me realize that shifting your focus to something else equally fun and interesting is actually kind of necessary. I get bored easily, so I need to switch things up often to help me focus better. My son taught me that it’s okay to give your goal attention, move on to something else, and then come back to it. He took several breaks but he always went back to throwing his blocks.
5. Make It Enjoyable
My little unicorn was content and entertained during his game of blocks. He showed no frustration, even when the block was out of reach. He seemed to have found pleasure in figuring out how to stretch his arm further for the block. I was inspired by the ability of his little 10 month-old mind to figure out how to grab hold of something that initially seemed out of reach.
I have always heard that your children teach you so much about life and I did not understand that concept until recently. My understanding of goal setting was deepened after watching my little guy play with his blocks.