Urban Mama

My Dream Birth

I posted about my third (and last!) birth at DC Metro Moms (it was a special topic day about Birth and Adoption stories) earlier this week. Find out why my final birth was the sweetest.

Cousins

So far, my kids have five blood* cousins, all on my side of the family. My mother's eight grandchildren range in age from 13 (my sister's eldest) to 3 months (baby J). It's one of my deepest wishes that these first cousins will be a Kennedyesque clan -- a generation of friends and confidants that will always be united. Unfortunately, my siblings and I don't have a real model for fostering this sort of cousinly closeness.

We only have six first cousins -- three maternal and three paternal. Our mother's sister's children all live in Venezuela, while our father's brother's kids are in Colombia. Six years ago today, our oldest cousin Monica, who would've been 45 this year, died in a horrific accident on her way to visit her younger sister Martha at the hospital. Martha had just had her second baby girl, and Monica was driving her seven-year-old to meet the new baby. Monica never made it to the hospital. She was killed while trying to fix her tire on the highway's shoulder. A speeding commercial truck rammed into her, and she died instantly. Her daughter was asleep in the car and was by the grace of God not injured in the accident.

After our cousin died, I was sad but not despondent. I held my first baby, only four months old at the time, and tried to imagine what my cousin Martha, a new mother of two, must've felt knowing her beloved older sister had died on the very same day of her daughters' shared birthday (she had two scheduled C-sections on the same day, exactly two years apart). I cried for Martha. I cried for my aunt, because no parent should have to outlive their child and for Monica's daughter, who had lost her mother so prematurely. I cried for Martha's brother Frank, who had also lost a sister. But to be brutally honest, I did not cry for myself. I hardly knew my cousin. She lived in another country, and I heard about her only from my mother or during my aunt's or Martha's occasional visits to the States. I couldn't even remember the last time I had seen or spoken to her.

On that June afternoon in 2002, I came to grips with an awful truth: that I could only grieve for Monica's survivors and for the idea of her as my oldest cousin, a contemporary of my siblings. But she just wasn't part of my life. That distant, vague sense of family connection is not what I want for my children. I want them to think of their cousins as extended siblings, not just individuals with common ancestors.

Of course there are no guarantees that they will be the best of friends. For one thing, there is the question of age. The first four all in a row: 13, nearly 12, nearly 11, and 10. Then there's E four years younger than the first wave. Then D , who is almost exactly two years older than her cousin Bella, who is in turn 16 months older than baby J. And if my my brother and his wife have another baby in the next two years, there will basically be two sets of four with E floating in the middle. That's a potential 15-year span between oldest and youngest cousins. And while two of us live in Central Florida, I live in DC, and my oldest brother lives in NYC.

So what are adult siblings to do to encourage their children to be close? We have to make a real effort to see each other more often, to let the kids interact more than just on every other holiday. We have to try to plan vacations together and encourage the older kids to email and call each other, share iPod lists, add each other to Facebook when the time comes, etc. And most important, I think, we have to get to know our nieces and nephews ourselves and foster individual relationships with each of them. They have to be more than a sister's son or a brother's daughter.

If we do our best, then I'm sure the next generation of cousins will know each other so much more than we know ours.

*I used the word blood, because our kids also have a non-biological cousin -- the son of our former stepsister, who is still an important part of our lives.

All About My Mother

Two weeks ago, baby J and I went down to my sister's house outside of Tampa, so he could meet his Abuela, aunts, uncles and cousins. It was a low-key but important visit, because I was able to interview Mami about her life -- way before she had children. At first it was difficult for her, and she cried. But after a short while, she enjoyed the oral history project and laughed a great deal. Here are 10 things I learned about my family thanks to our videotaped conversations:

1. Mami's earliest memories are of holding her maternal grandfather's hand and walking around his farm. She was three or four at the time in her hometown of Barranquilla, Colombia.
2. The night after my sister was born was New Year's Eve, 1964. Because Mami had purposely returned to Colombia from the U.S. to have my sister, while my father was a medical resident in New York, she opted to take a sleeping pill early in the evening in order to miss the New Year's festivities at the hospital. But Mami's older sister went into early labor that night at the same hospital, so my aunt's then-husband kept Mami awake until our cousin Francisco was born, just before midnight. When the blue light came on in the waiting area, Mami congratulated her brother-in-law and finally got to sleep! Of course I knew my cousin and my sister were only one day apart, but I never knew my aunt's ex kept Mami awake, so he'd have company waiting for the baby news.
3. My mother met my father during her college's homecoming weekend. College students from various schools would attend each other's homecomings, so Mami was the hostess/greeter for the students from my father's university. The group hadn't made a very good impression on my mother, but since the candidate from her department was named homecoming queen, she ended up escorting them to the celebratory post-pageant party, where my father relentlessly asked her to dance. Had her friend not won, she would've probably gone home instead of going to the party.
4. My mother and father eloped in Barranquilla on Aug. 31, 1961. When my father, then a medical student in Cartagena -- a good three hours from Barranquilla -- realized he had forgotten to pack his nice shoes, he had to borrow a pair from my mom's friend's boyfriend. The shoes were too big for my father, but he didn't complain.
5. The biggest cause for my parents' elopement was that my late aunt, who was nearly 11 years older than Mami, was planning to whisk my mother to the States to finish her college studies. Since my parents hadn't disclosed they were dating to my grandparents, Mami thought her parents would force her to go to the U.S. with her sister.
6. I knew my mother's favorite high-school teacher, Ana King, and her husband, were the witnesses at my parents' wedding. But I didn't know that Señora King was the one to initially break the news to my grandparents, immediately after the secret ceremony (only a few of my mother's classmates, including the one whose boyfriend lent my father his shoes, were present). My parents anxiously waited just outside Mami's house while Ana explained what had just happened.
7. One of Mami's favorite school memories was participating in an annual dance performance. A gifted dancer, she was even selected for a pairs dance, and she and her partner danced several years together in a row. They even represented the school at local youth folkloric dance competitions. No wonder she was so disappointed when I quit ballet and just took tap!
8. In 1959, my mother was one of her prep school's few female graduates to enroll in college. However, my mother didn't finish, because she got pregnant the spring semester of her sophomore year, just five-and-a-half months after marrying. She still regrets not obtaining her degree.
9. Although my maternal grandparents quickly accepted my mother's marriage, continued to support her undergraduate studies, and housed the long-distance newlyweds (my father was still in Cartagena for med school), my paternal grandparents -- who were not as financially stable as my mother's family and lived in a rural village instead of the city of Barranquilla -- told my father he'd have to fend for himself his last year of medical school. He had to move out of his campus housing to live with a distant relative.
10. After dancing with my father for several hours that first homecoming night, he accompanied my mother's friend as he drove her home. When they got to my mother's house, my father asked for her number. She told him, but she also noticed he wasn't writing it down. She went to sleep thinking that he was rude, and that he wasn't planning to call. It turns out, "he was like you," Mami said to me. "He had memorized it."

If You Had One Year to Be With Your Mother...

I haven't discussed my mother's cancer in a while, but I think most of my regular readers (all six of you!) know that she has metastatic colon cancer that has recently spread to her liver & lungs. My mother has been battling her cancer since June 2000 and unfortunately she never made it to five years disease free. Her oncologist apparently (my mother isn't very open about her doctor's visits) gave her a one-year prognosis on Friday, with a "few more months" if she undergoes one more cycle of chemotherapy.

I'm taking the baby down to Florida next week for a five-day visit (Thurs-Mon) with Mami, my sister, my brother and their families. I am also going down in June with all three kids for an entire week. I am going to start an emergency travel fund just in case my mother makes a turn for the worse, and I have to get on the next available flight to it down to Tampa. My siblings and I know a prognosis isn't always an accurate prediction (many people outlive their prognosis by years while others get unexpectedly sick and don't even make it that far; you never know), but I obviously want to see my mother as often as possible this year...

I think I've mentioned that I have an ongoing project of videotaping conversations with my mom so my siblings and I can share them with our children as they get older. I will continue this on my upcoming trips down there. My sister, brothers and I also plan to ask her if she has any "last wishes" -- people she wants to see, short trips (to Miami or New York) she may want to take -- while she is relatively well.

Are we missing anything? What have those of you who've dealt with a dying parent done for them in their final months? What would you do if you got this news? I'm trying to stay strong, but if I think about it too long I break down. I don't want to break down. My mother didn't lose it when my grandmother was dying, and I don't want to either!

Five TV Shows I Still Miss

I've been missing writing about entertainment, so I found this unpublished post and thought I would share it with you. Here are five television series I wish had gone on a little -- ok, a lot -- longer:

5. Homefront (ABC, 1991-993) Long before he was the earnest football coach on NBC's Friday Night Lights, Kyle Chandler spent two seasons playing aspiring ball player Jeff Metcalf on this touching –- but never trite -– post-WW II drama. Set in a small Ohio town, this period show’s look at 1940s America won critical success but never scored more than a limited, albeit loyal, following. I couldn’t wait to hear the opening song, ‘40s chart-topper “Accentuate the Positive,” every week. Of the talented young cast, only Chandler and Kelly Rutherford (Gossip Girl) continued with regular TV gigs. It’s still a shame ABC pulled the series.

4. Arrested Development (Fox, 2003-2006): With all the schlock Fox has aired over the years, you’d think having a critically praised, Emmy-winning ensemble comedy –- one narrated by Opie Taylor/Richie Cunningham himself -– would inspire some extra consideration. But in its third season, Arrested Development still couldn’t pull in strong > enough numbers to convince Fox to pony up for another season. No other family will make me laugh as hard as those kooky Bluths, cackling like demented chickens, getting dolled up for Motherboy XXX, or clumsily hitting on their cousins. 

3. Everwood (The WB, 2002-2006): Every time I think about the fact that the CW cancelled Everwood when the WB and UPN merged but renewed 7th Heaven for one more season, I have to keep from spontaneously vomiting. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it was the WB’s highest-rated series, but Everwood was so much better. Critics constantly hailed the Colorado-set Everwood as one of the best family dramas on television, and with good reason. My childhood crush on Treat Williams aside (I know he’s 56, but he was smokin’ hot in Hair -- "flow it', show it, long as God can grow it, my Hairrrrrrrr!" ), he and Gregory Smith rocked the complicated father-son dynamics, and the show tackled sensitive issues (sex, cancer, AIDS, abortion, sexual harassment) without being overly preachy. My TV week is just not the same without it.

2. My So-Called Life (ABC, 1994-1995): A small riot broke out in my college-freshman dorm when we found out ABC was canceling this adolescent drama after only one season. But more than a decade later, The N made my dreams come true by re-broadcasting the whole series (only 19 episodes!), allowing me not only to TiVo each episode, but to watch one I had originally missed. Even though Claire Danes might like to think she’s outgrown her performance as the ultimate angst-ridden teen, she’ll always be Angela Chase to die-hard MSCL fans.

1. Freaks and Geeks (NBC 1999-2000): Before he went on to become the Don of the Comedy Mafia, writer-director-producer Judd Apatow created a brilliant comedy centered on Lindsay Weir, a high-schooler in the early ‘80s who decides to shed her brainy mathlete reputation and join the ranks of the pot-smoking, class-ditching “freaks.” It still boggles my mind that viewers flocked to the predictable jokes and heavy-handed laughtrack of That ‘70s Show over this expertly written, often hilarious, and frequently touching treatment of high school life. I take comfort in the fact that Apatow and nearly every teen cast member (Linda Cardellini, James Franco, Busy Philipps, Seth Rogen, Jason Segel, John Francis Daly and Martin Starr) have gone on to bigger things.

So, what TV shows make your list of dearly missed?

A Year In the Life

We moved to the DC burbs one year ago last week. Here's a quick look at the past year in Urban Mama land:

• April  2007: We tearily bid farewell to our Brooklyn home, our New York lives, family and friends and move to downtown Silver Spring, Md. Our new apartment is 300 square-feet larger but 300 times more boring than our former place. The kids go to a cooperative preschool in DC; The husband starts working at his new lawfirm, and I deal with navigating life as a freelancer in DC.
• May 2007: I make my first return trip to NYC for the Tribeca Film Festival.The husband and kids join me, and we visit many friends in Brooklyn and my brother's family in Queens. I cry through the streets of Tribeca wondering why we moved.
• June  2007: We discover a family friend's niece is a realtor down here and start looking for a house. The husband and I celebrate our sixth anniversary. The kids and I enjoy going to the apartment building's pool most afternoons. We return to NYC a second time to house and dog-sit for an acquaintance in Brooklyn. We once again feel seriously homesick.
• July 2007: We find a house we really like but by the time we're ready to to bid, someone else has already put in a contract. The following week, I find a newly listed home, and my awesome realtor gets me a preview. After the husband visits during the Open House, we decide to put in a contract the following day. The contract is accepted, and the closing is set for August. We go to NYC a third time and live it up once again. The husband and I go on our one and only flight of the year -- at trip to New Mexico for our dear friend Elizabeth's wedding.
  
• Aug. 2007: I quickly realize the "flu" I think I have feels eerily like first-trimester symptoms. But surely that's not it, since I have an IUD. The husband remembers we have an old, unopened pregnancy test I can take. There's a faint, faint, barely-there line. After four more tests and a trip to the hospital, we come to terms with the fact that I am, in fact, pregnant. We close on our house, and I nearly vomit at the proceedings. The Schmoop starts kindergarten.
  
• Sept. 2007: We move into our new house, and I realize that there is no way I can unpack while still having the actue pukeyness of first trimester life. I decide to have a homebirth and meet my amazing midwife for the first time. We rack up a lot of new-homeowner expenses. My mom comes to visit for the first time since we moved. I turn 31.
  
• Oct. 2007: No more morning, noon & night sickness. I start getting to know my neighbors and realize this suburbs thing isn't as bad as it first seemed. We celebrate our first Halloween (as parents) outside of Brooklyn. Despite missing the crowded streets of NYC, we're delighted not to have to deal with mobs of kids outside of every stoop.
• Nov. 2007: We go back to New York for the Marathon, where we stay directly on the marathon's path at our friends' brownstone.The Schmoopette turns three! We host our first holiday -- Thanksgiving with 2/3rds of my siblings and their families. The cousins have a ball running around the house. I cry when my last sibling leaves town and wish we all lived in the same city.
• Dec. 2007: We host our second holiday -- Christmas with my mom, my in-laws and one of the husband's aunts and her family of three. For New Year's, my oldest brother comes down with his brood and we thank God for my mom making it another year with cancer.
• Jan. 2008: My mom has to have surgery that leaves her with a colostomy. My siblings and I are on the phone with each other several times a day. She pulls through and stays at my sister's in Central Florida. I feel helpless being 30+ weeks pregnant and unable to go down and help.
• Feb. 2008: The Schmoop, our Superbowl Sunday 2001 baby, turns six on Superbowl Sunday. The husband turns 33 three days later. We have an un-Valentine's Day "Lost" celebration, but our plans for a last-hurrah weekend away go to pot when the husband's case schedule interferes. I have early contractions and am advised to stay on modified bedrest for a few days. No baby, though.
• March 2008: We (well, OK, *I*) have our third child in a birthtub in our basement rec-room. It's my most fulfilling, empowering birth experience. Life with a newborn begins again after a three year and four month break. We all fall in love with our new itty bitty boy. Our family feels complete, but I still yearn for another birth and a baby sister for the Schmoopette. The husband feels quite differently and schedules a vasectomy.
• April 2008: Here we are one year later, and although we still (and maybe will always) miss living in New York, we have grown to love our little butter-yellow home with the white picket fence. We have many blessings to count down here -- our neighbors, our old friends, our new friends. And our family is larger by one tiny person we all adore.

Urban Mama Recommends: Earth Mama * Angel Baby Products

A few weeks before I gave birth, I read about the Earth Mama * Angel Baby product line and was excited to try them for myself. The Oregon-based company specializes in organic, phthalate-free labor, postpartum, breastfeeding and baby products. I was especially eager to use the Natural Labor Companion CD and Labor Ease Kit during my homebirth. Unfortunately, because baby J was 18 days early, I received the shipment of goods two days AFTER he was born. As it turned out, my birth was so relaxed and fast I wouldn't have had much use for most of the items, so I called EMAB and was told I could return any unopened products for a merchandise credit. That was good news, since my husband swears this is our last baby.

Although the labor products weren't opened, I knew the postpartum items would still come in handy even a couple of days late. Here is a list of my mama-tested, mama-approved EMAB goods*:

Earth Mama Bottom Balm: I did not have any perineal tears, but any mama who has experienced a vaginal delivery is sore and swollen down there. This herbal salve (no petroleum by-products, no parabens) feels a bit like Vicks on your fingers, but it is so much better. It definitely makes your bruised and sensitive parts feel tingly. It heals and cools, and it's all-around a must-have for any mama after a vaginal birth.

Postpartum Tea: I am a picky tea drinker. Not in a snobby way; I just find most tea too bitter, so I end up putting too much milk and honey in it, which masks the taste. But my husband insisted I try this one straight. It's actually quite good, but I still put a teensy dollop of honey in my cup.

New Mama Bottom Spray: This is my favorite postpartum product. It's a cooling spray made of witch hazel, antibacterial lavender, and peppermint essential oils. I sprayed it all over my sore bits and also on my maxi pads. I am still using it, just for kicks. If I were ever to have another baby (which is unlikely, but since many of you might still have a baby or two in your future), I would pre-treat a bunch of maxi pads and then freeze them before delivery.

Organic Baby Shampoo and Body Wash: We don't give baby J a bath every day but when we do (actually, in our house, the husband bathes the baby and then passes him off to me as I wait with the hooded towel) we use this mild shampoo & body wash. It's got a self-foaming pump, since the castile soap itself has no foaming agents.

Angel Baby Bottom Balm: I use this every day, especially after the baby had his first diaper rash. It's a rich and creamy balm, and you only need a little bit to go a long way. Plus, it can be used with cloth diapers, which is a relief. So far, so good.

*These items were purchased for my birth and postpartum recovery

So Frakkin' Excited

This post is dedicated to my dear friends Kelly and Sandy, content editors extraordinaire at AOL Television. Without their insistence (and gentle threats of ending their friendships with me if I didn't give the show a chance), I might have missed out on one of the few TV shows my husband and I enjoy together.

Why Battlestar Galactica (which starts up again tonight on the Sci Fi Channel) Helps Marriages (and no, not necessarily in that way, gutter minds!)

• It's not just a sci-fi series. It's a futuristic, political, action-adventure, relationship drama (basically something for everyone) all rolled into one.
• Possibly the best female character ever to appear on primetime is on the series: Kara "Starbuck" Thrace (played by the awesome Katee Sackhoff, right). She's badass, kickass, and smartass -- the kind of woman who can out-do any fellow soldier on the Galactica at just about anything.
• Not that we're shallow, but the series provides plenty of eyecandy for both men and women. The husband predictably likes the leggy Cylon Number Six (Tricia Helfer), while I find Helo (Tahmoh Penikett) most attractive.
• The writing is impressive -- think "Lost" in space. But, thank the gods, there aren't as many nagging mysteries in BSG as there are on our favorite island.
• The ensemble cast is one of the most diverse on television, even if ethnicity on the series itself isn't really an issue. Edward James Olmos has called it the best role of his career.
• It's impossible to be "kind of" into the show. Either you love it or you don't. We're happy we love it.

Get That Boy a Hairdryer!

In case you haven't been paying attention, the tiny person on the left is my newborn son, napping in his Sweetpeace. He is about five days old in that picture. And as you can see, he's got a LOT of hair. It seems to be the first thing people notice about him. On my few outings since giving birth, complete strangers will approach me, peer into my sling and say variations of this sentence: "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOOD! LOOK AT ALL THAT HAIR!"

Some friends even wrote us that he looks like a baby toupee model. What can we say, we make hairy babies. After his first bath, we briefly pondered using the blow dryer on the lowest setting. Personally, we think he looks like a little old Asian man. Today at IKEA, we saw a Japanese grandpa who actually resembles the baby. We tried to figure out a way to clandestinely take a picture of the man but then decided against it.

Are newborns with a lot of hair that uncommon? They're usually the norm in certain cultures, so is it just rare among "white" babies? I am  finding it funny this time around that strangers and friends alike can't get over the Schmoopadoo's 'do. We promise, there's no product in it, and no, we can't "lend" your baldie baby (or husband, for that matter) any of his locks. It's too silky and soft to share.

Fortunate Son

jonah
Originally uploaded by jenlemen

Today I heard the classic CCR song "Fortunate Son" on the radio as I was picking up the Schmoop from Spring Break Camp. I thought about how despite the fact that Jonah is far from a "millionaire's son," he is very much a fortunate one. Not in the sense that John Fogerty means (I know the song is about Vietnam and how rich men's sons could avoid the draft, unlike the song's narrator), but in the sense that he is a very lucky and blessed child.

See, my third pregnancy was a complete surprise. Our first two were as well, for that matter, but this third one was incredibly against the odds. I had an IUD in place for a little over a year, so the chances of getting pregnant were a miniscule 0.6%. Having also gotten pregnant using two other forms of birth control, I had gotten the IUD because it seemed the most fool-proof. Obviously, God (or the universe, take your pick) had other plans.

Not only was I indeed pregnant, but I had a viable pregnancy (many IUD pregnancies are ectopic or result in miscarriage). Exactly 31 weeks after feeling fluish and later seeing the blinking word "Pregnant" on a digital pregnancy test, out swooshed the Schmoopadoo into the hectic waters of our family's domestic life. So yes, he's a Fortunate Son.

He's lucky to have so many people, near and (mostly) far, who prayed for his safe arrival; lit candles to brighten his journey; made provisions to sustain us; shipped presents (from hand-made baby outfits, blankets, and booties to hand-me-down activity mats, slings, and cloth diapers); delivered cheesecake from Junior's and fruit bouquets; e-mailed gift certificates and well-wishes; bought us groceries; and said blessings on his behalf. No, he's no "senator's son," but he's a Fortunate Son.

Last July the husband and I felt a great deal of initial shock and panic at another ill-timed and unplanned pregnancy. Some of those feelings didn't resolve, quite frankly, until two weeks ago when J arrived. And I'm fairly sure the husband is still concerned about my ability to fulfill my housekeeping responsibilities (not my forte) with a newborn, a preschooler and a kindergartener. But here we are, eight months after that positive test, with a dark-eyed baby boy who all four of us instantly loved and welcomed into our little family. He's ours and we're his. What a Fortunate Son.