Let Them Touch Babies

the bean...

Above: My parents look on as some Turkish women take Harrison out of their arms and treat him like their own, common practice in Istanbul.

I was thinking the other day about how much Turks publicly loved every child and showed it by hugging and touching and pinching and playing and feeding them. Pete and I talked about how much we would miss that and boy we do.

When forgetting that baby touching doesn't exist here, I just rationalize that Americans are crazy about themselves and have trouble connecting with each other, and maybe have a little too much knowledge about germs and the like, and I really miss the Turkish women and young girls who would just snatch my children from me to play with them everywhere we went.

I know that parents complain about "strange" people touching their babies, and I have to always remind myself to tell my animal loving (and therefore baby-loving) 1.5 yr old son to "not touch the baby's face" when he waddles over (okay - he is definitely running by now, but I don't want advance him yet) and is interested in the secret bundle beneath the blankets in the "carrier."

Even with the verbal reminder from me, showing the parent that I understand the unspoken rule, I often get awkward slash nervous voices coming from them saying things like, "Oh isn't that cute...look another baby." When I know in their minds all they are thinking is, "Get away from my baby with your wood chip-mud filled baby so we can go home clean. Why did I bring my child out of his room?"

Is this germ thing for real? Anyone who has let people touch their babies (specifically faces even), has your baby gotten any life-threatening disease from this? I have never heard of such a thing, but maybe it is because I avoid the liable-scared doctors that the American Health care system creates.

I have had 2 chances to do research in this field and in both cases I have had no trouble with people manhandling my children since birth (washed hands or not -- I hear the "ewww gross" coming through your skull and I kindly turn my nose to it). No one got sick or had negative repercussions from my sharing.

The Turks had such a deep love for children, I think since they recognized that having a family is valuable and precious. I think that in the US, a country where it is common to treat money like it comes from trees, we think that therefore things that are deemed "expensive" (children) are really not that valuable since everyone has them.

But they are so valuable. And why should we keep these precious, valuable things to ourselves?

I often think about my own mom who brought us everywhere, all 7 of us. I always thought it was because she loved us, but I think I am now understanding in my old age, that she loved everyone else and believed that children are what you share with those you love.

I think I believe the same thing. Of course, don't we all believe most things our mothers do?

Children are meant to be shared. They are only little for so long and we don't all get to enjoy them when they are young. Let those who can't enjoy their own enjoy yours.

I want to be more communal here. Individualism is only good for so many things.

The Mommie Interviews

It's Wild Card Wednesday and we're proud to present the third installment of The Mommie Interviews.  Today's mom is Lex Steeber, a fellow Bloggerwife of New Jersey who writes the blog Advantages of Calamity.  Lex works part time and has two little munchkins under the age of four, pictured above and affectionately referred to as Monkey and Scootch.

As a wannabe mom, I wrote to Lex asking for a bit of insight/advice on what is for me, uncharted territory; before I begin to navigate the waters, I want to know the real deal: I don't want to pull up my anchor under the illusion that I'm headed toward the white sand beaches of Bermuda only to find myself adrift amongst the hypodermics off the coast of the Jersey Shore.  

A tell-it-like-it-is girl after my own heart, Lex opened up and revealed the nitty gritty.  Here's what she confided:

On Losing Control
I just have to tell you, the most terrifying part about becoming a parent is the loss of control. You don't have much control over your pregnancy (and that includes when you eat, sleep, cry, and pee), you have no control whatsover about the delivery, there is no guarantee about what the baby's personality will be like, whether s/he will sleep through the night, etc etc.

But really, it's a good thing, because if you make through the whole 9 months relinquishing all the small elements of yourself that you used to be completely in charge of, well, then you usually pass the test and get a baby as your reward. :-)

On Mothering a Newborn

Now, first of all, the reason you don't curl up in bed petrified is actually due to hormones, but that's not a deep enough answer. For the first few weeks (months) you are functioning on instinct and auto pilot. Feed the baby, change the baby, sleep with baby, repeat. There were small moments I remember having time to marvel and worry, but they were quickly forgotten when the baby cried or if I had a 7 minute window, that moment was reduced to jumping in the shower in hopes of becoming somewhat human again.

This might be sounding dark and terrifying, and I apologize, but I hate sugar coating. And you're probably sitting there thinking "Why the heck would I ever want to go through this?" and I'll tell you why you do: you do it for your baby.

On Logic and Reason

You read in books and watch on tv all the time how a mom saved her baby by doing something crazy, or sacrificing herself, and you wonder how she could ever do that with a rational mind. That's the key, you give up a little part of your rational mind when you have kids. Whether people want to admit it or not, its true. I've never heard a rational love story in my life, and the same is true with kids. You love them as an extension of yourself, and often moreso than yourself, and therein is the reason you often lose all focus other than keeping them safe and loved and happy.

On Rewards

And your reward? It's your children. Every breath, every smile is a celebration. When they first coo at you and give you a toothless grin they hit the reset button on your memory cache and all those sleepless nights and after birth pains are wiped out of your mind. I actually had to think about it when someone said "Well I remember how much pain you were in those first few days," and I REALLY had to think about it, because it almost felt like they were talking about someone else.

Holding my babies made me feel complete, and as they grew (grow) out of my arms a part of me grew outward with them. That's the best I can explain it. The quote you posted a few blogs ago about the heart walking around outside your body is correct, but they're missing the tidbit about how you're still tethered. When they're little you're connected by your hands, when they're bigger you're connected by your love and protectiveness that gives them a safe haven to grow in, and when they're older still its your words and lessons that stick with them and echo in their minds as they go through life.

On Advice

Now here is the part that might make or break my advice for you. My first child, my daughter, was a fabulous experience. Hardly any problems with the pregnancy, delivery was pretty good with only 2 complications, and she was a divine little baby, especially after we got her reflux issues cleared up. She was so wonderful I got pregnant again around her first birthday and had my son when my daughter was 20 months old. The party ended a little after that.

I remember feeling distinctly different the first night after having my son. I kept waiting for the wonderment and euphoria to kick in, but I had to almost mentally stretch to reach it. At home with the two of them, it was the same feeling, distinctly different than when I was home with my daughter. I had insomnia (and not because my baby was up, my son was a wonderful sleeper). When I did go to sleep I had horrifying nightmares about SWAT teams crawling through my windows and stealing my babies. I didn't want anyone to leave me alone with them, I constantly thought that something terrible would happen to one while I was with the other, and the icing on the cake was that I was terrified to leave the house with them alone. I would get so far as have them both buckled in and safely at the grocery store or wherever I was going, but then I couldn't see how I would ever be able to get them out of the car without something terrifying happening to us. I realized I was living like a hermit with my two kids, hardly ever venturing outside even though my son was born in June and I was home for a summer's stretch of glorious weather. 

On Sanity

My OB sent me to a psychologist, and she diagnosed me with depression and Immobilizing Anxiety Disorder. Every doubt and every fear from the stories I heard on the television or read in the paper would spiral into paralyzing bouts of fear and nightmares. I would lay awake checking my son's breathing 4 times a minute while trying to do my own breathing exercises that would give me at least 2 hours of sleep at night. I was supposed to go back to work, but it took an extra week of therapy before I could even think about it, and another 2 weeks until I could attempt it.

I made it though. And it got easier every day I kept it up. I still have problems turning down the overanalysis radio station in the back of my mind all through the day, and I still don't watch the evening news or subscribe to a paper. All the news I hear I get from selectively reading off the internet.

But I have to tell you, it's STILL worth it with all the anxiety and hardship. My kids are magnifiers. They multiply my experiences by a thousand-fold. Sure that means crappy days are all that much crappier, and sick days are so much more painful, but the joy is 1000x more joyous, the feelings of wonderment are almost that much more indescribable, and the laughter is at least that much more infectious.

On Coping

And the how to handle it question, well we usually just do because we're mothers. But the phase "It takes a Village" is the truest quote I've heard so far. Support is so important, and I don't just mean your family (which IS nice, because you can usually get the childcare services cheapest from them! ;-) ) but I have an online forum of mommy friends I am extremely close to, and have been since I was pregnant with my daughter, and another whole network from acquaintances, neighbors, and daycare that help with the day to day grievances or play dates or 10 minute watching my kids so I can run to the store while they're napping.

Your friend said you should have a baby to stop worrying about yourself, and I found that I've never known myself as well as I do now that I have kids. Maybe that's what makes the worry go away. The challenges of parenting and motherhood temper your steel, so to speak. You find out just how strong you are, how patient (or impatient), or what really is your true limit.

Lex, that was amazing.  Thank you for sharing your experience 
and thoughts with us and our readers.