Asking For Help

I was en route to work last week when I got a text from a co-worker.  “Morning! Don’t let me forget, I have a baby question for you. A friend of a friend just had hers a week ago, and is struggling with a newborn issue,” it read.  My curiosity was peaked.  What could it be? Nursing? Poop habits? Sleep depravation? My co-worker usually runs and hides when I forget my whereabouts and start talking about all the colors I saw in Mini’s diapers over the weekend. I was nearly kicked out of her birthday party last year, when for reasons unknown even to me, I reminisced about the accuracy of the term “ring of fire.” How had she gotten herself involved in a conversation about newborns?

In this modern age we live in, we may not always be surrounded by the village that it takes to raise a child.  Back in the Husband’s homeland, his sisters are both within spitting distance of their mom, and will likely trip over myriad aunties, uncles, and cousins in the grocery store.  Much of my family has settled in the DC area, where my cousins pass baby goods back and forth to one another depending on who’s pregnant at any given time, and even my mom has pulled a baby-sitting shift or two.  As someone who is super close to my mom, I felt her dismay over the possibility that I wouldn’t be able to depend on her physical presence in the first terrifying, confusing days, weeks, and months of parenthood.  However, as someone who often leaps into the unknown, and is married to the most independent guy on the planet, I figured we would survive by doing what millions of moms and dads do every day – making it work, on our own.

 Team Raff, on the Amtrak Acela en route to our village.

 So, where do you turn when you’re the first of your friends to have a baby, or you’re miles away from family? How do you reveal you’re struggling without exposing yourself to too much, too confusing, or too rigid advice? Even with all the oodles of modern technology at our fingertips, there is something to be said for having your village within reaching distance. Wouldn’t breastfeeding commiseration be easier on my cousin’s couch than via FaceTime? Could texts and cell phone pictures really communicate my concern over Mini’s scaly skin and horrific cradle cap? Who the hell was I going to talk to at one in the morning, drearily watching Netflix while Mini attempted to break a nursing world record?

I was lucky to find a few online communities where no gross thing went unsaid, no triumph or tragedy  went unacknowledged. These groups aren’t perfect. They gather together women with lots of different perspectives and viewpoints, but if you can find one where the focus is on supporting mothers who are trying their best to succeed and help others, with a moratorium on politics and bullying, and a clear policy on posting photos (NYC Birth’s battle over a home birth photo hit the national news cycle!), you’ll find yourself with friends you’ve never met, cheering you on with empathy.  Sometimes it’s easier to talk about your failures and fears with a stranger, which can also open you up to how people are doing things in other cultures and communities. I was recently invited to join a group for Irish mothers living abroad in NYC. You may have cottoned on to the fact that although I am not Irish, I am determined to preserve Mini’s black Irish identity and the bond with her family there. I wasn’t sure how some of the other moms would react to the black American in their midst, and it almost held me back from joining, but I have found immediate acceptance and enthusiasm for our story, and really, it’s just moms being moms anyway – we just make far more jokes about lads and tea and our favorite Irish fast fashion shops. (Penneys is all the rage right now, but I never come home from Ireland without something from New Look!)

The new mom in question was indeed having some nursing issues, one of the most intense and personal challenges that new moms face. Full discloser – I’m a nurser. I figured I’d give it a shot and see if I could last a few months, because that’s what everyone else seemed to be doing, and alas, here I am with a two year old who asks for the boobie at bedtime.  However, I think we all know that nursing, for some reason, is still not a judgement-free zone.  Do it enthusiastically, and you’re some kind of deviant on a mission to offend everyone around you.  Skip it altogether, and you’re a negligent mom who’s putting your child’s health in jeopardy.  Do it too briefly, and you’re a quitter.  Do it too long, and you’re giving your child an unhealthy complex. When you’re still in the middle, who can you trust?

One of the reasons I chose my hospital, NYU Langone, was because they are part of the World Health Organization’s Baby-Friendly certification, staffing midwife nurses who are also lactation consultants and putting a heavy emphasis on encouraging a new mother’s success with nursing. Without knowing who to talk to, I’d hoped the hospital would be my refuge when I needed help – and it was. I’m eternally grateful to the night nurse who was not only shameless enough to grab a boob and perfectly position it in Mini’s mouth, but to fight vehemently on my behalf when an old-school doctor wanted me to stop nursing and focus on post-natal issues that kept me in the hospital beyond my scheduled check-out time. What do you know? I could do both! (Now, that’s not to say that one person’s health took precedence over the other’s, even in a pro-nursing environment. I also pumped in the hospital, and they did send us home with formula to supplement nursing for a couple of days because of Mini’s extreme weight loss).

(NYU Langone hasn't requested my endorsement, but here it is. Click here to learn more about giving birth there.  And if you're searching for a WHO-certified Baby Friendly Hospital, or want to learn more about what the WHO does, click here.)

I put together an email with my best advice for the new mom – encouraging her to take care of herself physically, be as patient as possible in those first few days when both mom and baby are adjusting to the momentous shock they’ve both just been through, lather her aching boobies with as much lanolin or coconut oil as possible, and most importantly – talk.  As new moms, we are so afraid to be that person who talks about her kid.  So what? What else do you want to talk about? We listen to single people dating stories, sex stories, work stories, social stories, neighbor stories. Why should baby stories and issues be any different, even if they’re a little gross? I should be able to talk about what’s going on in my life, and I shouldn’t have to worry about who’s bothered by that or judging me because of it. Talking about the struggles of motherhood doesn’t mean you’re bad at motherhood.  And who knows, you might mention it to your friend, who might mention it to her friend, who might mention it to her friend, who will gladly set her work aside for 15 minutes to send you an email with some tips, some tricks, a reminder that anyone who tells you there’s only one way to do things is wrong, and a promise that however gross and exhausting and weird things are right now, they will get better. So please, talk. Someone other than the tiny, angry, hungry person attached to your boob will be there to listen.
Are you following our journey on social media? Keep up with Team Raff on Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat @thiswaytobaby.  Full disclosure - what the heck is Snapchat? I don't know. Let's figure it out together!