Tag Archives: motherhood

Letter to my Daughter

Y–Dear Y,

If you are reading this, it’s because you’ve had a baby. There are so many emotions from the moment you see your baby for the first time. I remember reaching for you as you came out, touching the top of your slippery head. My dream became a reality when I held you for the first time.  You have helped to shape me to be a mother. Guiding me and challenging me to become the mom that God wanted me to be.

I want you to know that you are not alone. As thrilling and exhilarating as it is, motherhood can be isolating and lonely. There are so many phases in this journey. And they all go by too quickly. I try to remind myself to enjoy each step, even the rough ones. Because that is part of being a mom.

As I write this, it’s 6:23pm, only 9 days until your 7th birthday. I am 41. Dad just turned 50. S is almost 6 months. He’s taking a late nap. Felipe, 4, is taking a bath. I sit next to him writing this on my phone while he throws Hulk in the water with a splash that gets my legs wet. You are playing in your room with your new doll. You are already an admirable mom. You rock your dolls, talk to them, and tenderly tuck them in when they fall asleep. You are patient, gentle and loving. And you also take care of me. You bring me water, massage my feet, rub my back, and remind F to keep his voice down if I’m resting with the baby.

This has been the toughest job I have ever had. But also the most nourishing to my soul! No one sees the hours of nursing, rocking, and soothing your baby. There is no bonus or trophy. There is no monetary equivalent to pay you for all you do. No memos are exchanged announcing your promotion to motherhood. Yet this is the most important work you will ever do. You are building a life. Making an individual. Molding, and affecting, and injecting everything you are into this being. It can be overwhelming. Especially if your baby doesn’t sleep well at night. That’s what I’m going through right now. And I pray that your little angel sleeps. But if he doesn’t. Know that you will survive this.

If you feel like crying in the middle of the night because you have never felt such exhaustion…

If your nipples are raw, and feel like you might break…

If your back hurts, and even your toes are sore from propping your feet up while you nurse…

If you have no more creative ways to serve ground turkey for dinner…

If you crave some alone time but also hate to leave your baby…

If you want to run away but also want to freeze time to savor each precious moment…

If you doubt everything you do and feel like you’re doing it all wrong…

If you leave the piles of papers and laundry because you can’t organize anything…

If you don’t watch T.V. anymore, or read a book, and some times can’t even take a shower…

Know that you are an amazing mother. That I see you and I am so proud. That what your gut tells you to do is probably better than what I may tell you. That you DO know what you are doing.

Listen to that voice that guides you to be the mother you were born to be. Don’t follow a book, or an App, or a friend’s advice unless your internal voice agrees that it’s the best option for you. And pray. Pray a lot. Because God placed that tiny person in your arms for a reason. He will help you every step of the way.

I adore you and that sweet grandchild of mine more than words can say, and I am always here!

Mama

Introverted Invitation

My soft spoken princess–She took 9 months, 5 days and 36 hours to come into this world. I tell her now that before she came into my belly, she was sitting next to God, looking down from heaven, choosing her mami and papi. And she took a long time to make her decision. We went through 3 years of fertility drugs until we finally had Y in our arms.

 

To this day, she takes her time doing most things. Putting on clothes, brushing her teeth, eating her food, going to the bathroom. And it drives me crazy. I am a non-stop-fast-paced -multi-tasker. There is no doubt that God knew what he was doing when he paired us up. The extra-extroverted mom and the observant-introverted daughter. We are both learning our lessons. Maybe me more than her at this point.

 

Every job I’ve ever had has been one revolving around people and conversation: hostess at Bennigan’s, sales at The Limited, Spanish tutor and translator, video-jockey, reporter, and meteorologist. Now in my greatest job of all, I am learning the most valuable lessons from my 5.5 year-old daughter. She invites me to slow down, enjoy the silence, just hold hands and walk without talking, do one thing at a time.

 

I’m reading the fantastic book “Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking” by Susan Cain. It’s making me look at everything through a different lens. I think I’m getting to understand my daughter better than ever. Since she was a baby, she’s preferred my arms rather than a strangers. She observes before interacting. She likes to listen and not talk. Laugh and not tell the joke. Get candy without running to the piñata. Have her birthday cake without a song. And I’m sure she loves gymnastics because she doesn’t have to talk.

 

We were at the grocery store just the other day and an older man approached us.

“You have a little helper with you today, huh?” he said.
“Yes, she’s a great helper” I answered.
“What’s your name sweetie?” he looked at Y.
No answer.
“Well, how old are you?”
No answer.
“How about a smile?”
Y glanced away, as the man looked at me and asked, “What is wrong with her? Is she sick?”
“Of course not sir, she is perfect! Have a great day!” And I strolled along.

 

This is an ideal example of what Cain writes about in her book. Why do we think that extroverts are more charismatic, smarter, better leaders? Why does something have to be wrong with my daughter because she doesn’t want to answer a stranger? “Introversion is now a second-class personality trait, somewhere between a disappointment and a pathology. Yet some of our greatest ideas, art, and inventions came from quiet and cerebral people who knew how to tune in to their inner worlds and the treasures to be found there.”

I have taught my daughter to say hello and thank you, and be polite to those around her. To do to others what she’d like to have done onto her. But she is such an introvert, that she innately has a very tough time communicating. Even saying her name. This is not something she will “outgrow”. She will likely just learn to adapt to her environment better as she gets older. But she will always be an introvert. Just as I always will be an extrovert. I might tone down my “diarrhea of the mouth” as I see necessary, but I will always like to talk and be involved in group activities.

I’ve been thinking of a list of things that I hope Y will like to do in the future, more than speak in public or communicate with large groups:

  1. Listen to God’s voice
  2. Learn another language
  3. Sew a button
  4. Write a poem
  5. Find her passion
  6. Feel acceptance and gratitude
  7. Be self confident
  8. Express her emotions
  9. Love and be loved to the fullest
  10. Find the thing she was born to do

Susan Cain, in her TED conference (http://www.ted.com/talks/susan_cain_the_power_of_introverts.html) reminds us that “introverts bring extraordinary talents and abilities to the world, and should be encouraged and celebrated”.

She made three requests:

1. Stop the madness for constant group work.
2. Go to the wilderness to have revelations. Unplug and get inside our heads.
3. Look at what is inside our suitcase and take it out. Whether it’s sky diving equipment or a library of books.
She ended her speech, wishing us all to have the courage to speak softly, as my daughter has taught me to do.