It's raining babies

January 31, 2013

Last week I went to North Carolina to visit some babies. 5 to be exact.

My first stop was to see my dear friend Becca. I met Becca in Awfultown, New York. She and Frank, her Ecuadorian husband, had moved there from New Jersey and come to my practice when she was pregnant with her first baby.  We bonded first on the pitiful culinary offerings of our crappy town, and, later, on the general weirdness of it all. As soon as we met we knew we were meant to be friends, but I was a little hesitant. I have a strict policy of not befriending patients while they are pregnant because all pregnant ladies are crazy and I need to be sure they are not crazy at all times. Turned out that Becca was an exception in that she was not at all crazy during her pregnancy. Also, Becca is Mormon. For awhile that worried me. I wondered what it meant to be friends with someone who participates in a religion that has been actively persecuting people just like me. I wondered if I could be friends with her. I wondered if she would judge me for who I am and what I believe and want to change me or reject me. Fortunately, I quickly realized the hypocrisy of that thinking and we began our improbable friendship...she became my Mormon, and I became her gay. Carolina was born by C-section not too long before I moved away. Becca worked so hard for a vaginal birth during a 42 week induction, but it just didn't happen. Her recovery was terrible and she was one miserable mama for awhile. I came to love her even more for her ability to openly and honestly talk about the pain and suckiness and exhaustion and disappointment and struggle that are sometimes what being a new mama is all about (especially post-operatively).

Fast forward, I moved back to Boston and the Succos moved to Greensboro, North Carolina. 8 weeks ago she had her second baby, Mateo. This time around she had a vaginal birth, an experience she fought really hard for and literally only gave up on while she was in early labor but didn't know it. Carolina has turned into a bright, beautiful, serious, thoughtful little girl. She loves her mama and her new brother, she worships her daddy, and she is not sure about anyone else. Mateo is sweet and silly in the ways only a new baby can be. His hair makes him look like an Ecuadorian dandelion. Frank's Spanish-speaking only parents were also in town...turns out the adoration of grandparents is the same in every language.

Stop number two was to see Alisa and Amber...and their TRIPLETS. Moral of this story = three babies is WAY too many babies. Alisa and I dated when we were in Midwifery school. When we broke up I didn't know how to handle it and I was so hurt and upset that I couldn't find my way to moving into a friendship with her. Several years later I found out that Alisa and Amber had gotten married. I was so happy that she had found love and a life partner, but I was even happier to see that her mom, with whom she had had a very difficult relationship when we were together, had come to the wedding. And so I wrote this to her and hoped she would be happy to hear from me. She was, so we started again, this time as friends. The last time I saw the babies they were about 3 months old (although, since they were born 8 weeks early, they were basically still like 2 week olds). I was only there for about 36 hours, but that was enough time to leave me exhausted and  twitching. It was INTENSE. The good news is, it turns out three 1 year olds is much easier...in some ways. Pretty much as soon as I walked in the door I was handed a baby and told to get him to sleep. So I snuggled, bounced, sang, placed in crib, and rinsed and repeated twice more. My time with Eliot a few summers ago, who would only sleep in the ergo while being bounced and sang to,  really boosted my skill set in this department. The overwhelming joy that comes when a baby is willing to rest his wee head on my chest, settle into my arms, and feel safe enough to fall asleep, particularly when he doesn't even know me, is indescribable. It's makes all 10,000 times I sang "You Are My Sunshine" to those boys, well worth it.

The weekend ended at a pub with Amber, Alisa, and two of their good friends. We all had some seemingly good reason to have a few drinks, so we did (I decided that even if my pregnancy was imminent, there was no blood flow yet so a few drinks couldn't hurt). All three babies survived and all five adults had a fantastic time. The silliness continued at home and I left the next day full of love and appreciation for these wonderful women and their current and future families. I also love that the only "partying" I've done this year was with another couple trying to get pregnant, and the mothers of triplets! Cheers to babymaking!

Me, Amber, Evelyn, Lite, and bebes