Sleeping and Waking

I was planning an entry about how sweet and moving being a mother is...then, Ila was awake last night from 3:45 to well past 5 AM. It's hard for me, at some moments during times like these, to remember that Ila is not being "bad." She's just doing something I don't particularly want her to do. In this case, she's keeping her little mole eyes open and her little limbs thrashing. I tried last night to not be overwhelmed with frustration or anxiety that this is the first step down a long road of not sleeping. I just tried to be present - Kiyomi and I lying quietly in the dark, silently willing Ila to follow our lead while hearing her little piglet grunts and mousy squeaks and feeling her little legs doing mermaid kicks on the bed. But, it's hard to be present in a present you don't like.

I feel that, in general, I am a fairly relaxed first time mom (is that an oxymoron?). I mean, I didn't know what to expect - I didn't know if I would be anxious and worried all the time. Fortunately, I am not too much of a worrier. However - and I did not anticipate this at all - I feel guilty with great frequency. When I lie Ila down to coo and gurgle and bat at her little toys while I run out to get the laundry, bring it in, fold it and put it away, I feel I'm being wildly irresponsible and a terrible parent. I feel guilty that I don't hold her enough, talk to her enough, stimulate her enough. Yesterday, for instance, I had her lying on the front bedroom bed while I tidied up in that room. The chaos of that room was driving me crazy, but I felt guilty doing it, like I should just be lying on the bed with her the whole time talking and playing - which is a pretty tame form of playing at this point in her life, mainly consisting of trying to grab and pull anything and everything to her mouth. She's happy for quite a while lying on her own - especially if I'm in the same room...but I feel guilty that I'm not - I don't know - constantly in complete attendance.

Okay, the rational side of me understands (sort of) that it's good for her to be able to amuse herself - safely and with a parent close by - for increasing amounts of time. But, I obviously don't really believe that. Maybe I feel guilty because talking and playing with a 4 month old is a little boring for me, and I'm ashamed to want to say, fold laundry or sweep the floor as a diversion. I mean, for chores to be more engaging is sort of a sad statement, no? Anyway, the guilty continues...but at least I can tell myself that all these feelings are probably totally normal...without necessarily believing it. It reminds me of one of my favorite Lydia Davis stories: "But it is curious how you can believe an idea is absolutely true and correct and yet not believe it deeply enough to act on it."

(You should read the whole thing...it's three paragraphs; the last piece on this page)

http://conjunctions.com/archives/c17-ld.htm

Despite all the not sleeping and the guilt, there are profound moments of sweetness in being a mama. The entry I was dreaming up yesterday morning was very different than today's. I was nursing Ila, lying on the bed, after her morning nap. This is a sweet time anyway, but I was particularly attuned to the lovely tenderness of seeing her little sweet face and feeling the little flutterings of her soft hands against my arms and chest. It is breathtakingly wonderful to be her mother. I feel so attached to her that I, of course, find myself ruining these thoughts with flashes of her being hit by a car or being diagnosed with childhood leukemia. Fortunately, unlike my guilt, I can fairly easily tell myself that these worries are profitless and unnecessary...and I can more easily believe myself.

Anyway, yesterday morning, I was awash in deep love feelings for Ila and it made me think about the fact that my family is not so great at being tender. I'm including my extended family on both sides. I can actually think of instances of my father being tender, more so than other adults in my young life - I think he was a pretty affectionate person when I was little. I suppose, this doesn't quite balance out the fact that he left my brother and me when we were young. Still, his earlier, sweeter actions had their effect and were important, I think.

My mother was also very physically affectionate and tender...but it was easier for my father to verbally be tender and loving. I know my mother's family much better than my father's, and I can safely say that it is very difficult for them to be tender with each other. Some interactions of the family have, in fact, made me vow to let myself love the people in my life in an unguarded, open, and expressive way...which, I acknowledge, is not always easy. However, the moments of awkward vulnerability that come along with open and affectionate expressions of care are worth it. I have had enough interactions with my mother's family to think that a lot of us could use a little more tenderness and unequivocally supportive gestures from each other.

Perhaps this is not uncommon. It is uncomfortable sometimes to really open up to those vulnerable, gushy, soft feelings like tenderness. Most of us humans may be a bit hardened. Perhaps, my family is not unique in its awkward uncomfortableness in the face of sweet, loving feelings. Whatever the case, I want, very consciously, to create a family environment for Ila that does not require protection and hardening, that allows those softer feelings of love and affection to be voiced.