Finally!!

Hi everyone!

One of the big things I talked about doing last year was starting a video blog (aka Vlog) on YouTube. As much as I LOVE my blog and have loved being able to document my innermost thoughts on this platform, I’ve always felt that what was missing was being able to physically SHOW you the very things I frequently write about. I can write about this or that adventure or moment with my husband and son, but wouldn’t it be really special to be able to see the moment and witness it for yourself?

With today, September 1st, being the official start of my birthday month, it just felt right to go ahead and start the vlog today. No more talking about it. Just do it.

SO, it’s done! MeetTheWengers is the name of our YouTube channel, and you can find our first vlog here:

Please go like the video by clicking the link and clicking the thumbs up button! Also, please click the subscribe button!

Thanks, everyone!! Your support is amazing. Simply amazing.

Own It.

The really amazing thing about sharing your story, whatever it may be, is that someone somewhere gets it. So much of my struggle over the past few months was because I kept my feelings, the ones that weigh heaviest on my heart, to myself. I very rarely spoke about personal issues aside from the lack of sleep. I openly discussed family matters and baby matters with those close to me, but the matters of “Mom” were usually off limits. It wasn’t because no one would listen. It was because I was so ashamed to feel them, let alone share them.

Openly discussing my postpartum depression wasn’t an act of bravery. It wasn’t something I wrote about in order to make others applaud me. In fact, writing all of these things knowing my son could (and probably will) read them someday is something I’ve also had to balance in my brain. But here is the thing. If I never admitted how I felt to others, I would also never admit and accept my own shortcomings as a person. I would never heal. I would never accept that yes, I need help, and no, it isn’t something I should be ashamed of. Simply owning my story, this chapter in the tale of my life, was necessary. It wasn’t an act of bravery, but a mere first step in simply surviving. A first step in beating this thing, and a giant leap in being a happier mom and wife…a happier Katie.

I also strongly believe that when you put out to the world the things you are working through, the world has a way of taking care of you. Call it spirituality. Call it just sheer luck. But this is something that I have witnessed time and time again in my life.  Just an hour after posting my last blog, the one detailing the emotional last 6 months of my life, something incredible happened. See, I belong to this expat group on Facebook for all fellow expats in the Stuttgart area. Honestly, I usually ignore the posts in this group because they don’t interest me. Usually it’s a student looking for a temporary apartment, someone trying to sell something, or expats looking to meet other expats after work in a bar somewhere. As a married woman and mom of a baby, I just don’t have time for that.

But something drew me to this expat group. It was a post written by a fellow mom whose name was typed in Cyrillic simply asking if there were any moms in the area looking to meet up.  I read post after post of fellow expat moms just dying to meet other moms and get together, speak English, and find others who might possibly understand this weird life we lead. I was one of those moms who responded.  I, and a few other moms, had this idea to begin a new Facebook group specifically for moms and their children. I decided to take on the role of administrator and in old school Katie J. fashion, got to work organizing this incredible group of moms, my other hidden talent. Sure enough, mom after mom asked to join. I couldn’t believe it. For the first time in months, I felt hope. As moms posted their introductions stating how excited they were to find other moms in the same situation, I felt more and more connected in a country where I have felt so disconnected since the birth of my son.

I couldn’t wait to tell my husband about the group I was organizing. When I told him, he just grinned knowing his wife the way he does. He simply said, “I’m really proud of you.” I was kind of proud of myself, too. I wasn’t going to be insulted by being ignored in a moms’ group anymore. I am not only going attend things with other moms, but I’m going to organize them and help make other moms feel welcome. I had the pleasure of getting together with two other moms, also group administrators, this morning for breakfast at a local bakery. Upon meeting for the first time, we all greeted each other by giving hugs. There was such a comfort among the three of us as if we had known one another for years. We laughed, we kept an eye on each other’s children, and for the first time since becoming a mom, I felt like I was officially a “Mom” and part of this “Mom’s Club” I’ve always heard so much about. More than anything, it just made me feel so happy to see that it isn’t a problem with me and that I can make friends. Perhaps I’ve just been looking in all of the wrong places up until now. We all had this general understanding of one another. We all knew exactly how the other one felt, and it was so refreshing to just feel that acceptance instead of needing to explain it out of desperation. After several hours of time together, we parted ways, and I felt refreshed in a way I hadn’t felt since becoming a mother. I felt excited to get home and ready to tackle whatever tantrum my baby boy decided to throw. I felt like I was a better mom to him because I was a better Katie to myself. It was perfect.

Something I’ve been really trying hard to do is just taking life one moment at a time. I know there are still hard and heavy days ahead. Depression isn’t a simple fix, if it even has a fix at all. But today was a good day filled with moments, beautiful moments, of real happiness in motherhood. I enjoyed time with other moms. I enjoyed beautiful, sunny weather in Germany. I enjoyed an afternoon with a beautiful little boy I am so incredibly fortunate to call my son. We laughed together. We danced together. We made silly faces and had silly conversations together. I was happily in the moment with him. I hope that when my son reads this someday, that that is what he takes from all of this. I want him to find joy in the moments. I also want him to know that even at my worst, I’ve always loved him as if I were at my very best. I want to live a life that makes him proud to call me his mother. And hopefully, it will challenge and encourage him to accept his own story someday, whatever that may be.

It Happened to Me

I didn’t think it would happen to me. I never thought it possibly could. I was so excited to become a mother. How could I not be? Each baby is a precious miracle, right? Motherhood is the most amazing gift one could possibly imagine, right? It’s the one thing I’ve heard from every mother before me.  I prayed for this baby. I researched every possible decision for this baby. I had a supportive family here readily willing to welcome this baby into our family. We had the love and prayers from my loved ones back home. My husband and I were at an amazing point in our marriage. I was comfortable in Germany. We were ready. I was ready to become a mother. I just knew I would be good at being this baby’s mother.

And then I started having pregnancy complications. I could feel the pangs of depression, the same ones I fought hard to rid myself of from my teenage years, haunting me after every doctor’s appointment. I was not only fighting for my child, but I was fighting to be a mother. I was alone with my support network thousands of miles away. I watched my husband worry himself to sleep each night as we faced an unfortunate tax year in Germany, as he struggled to manage a full-time career while beginning a full-time MBA program, as he prepared himself for the burden of supporting not just a wife, but a baby boy as well. We cut corners in every possible way we could while others around us purchased big homes, took expensive trips, and enjoyed fancy new cars. I watched my body do one thing while my heart yelled and screamed another. I have never felt more out of control and scared in my entire life. Trusting a fuzzy black and white image on an ultrasound screen was all I had. But, this baby was loved and wanted. We were blessed. So while I fought for each step of my son’s journey into this world, I continued to fight against antenatal depression too. Because I was ready. Because it wouldn’t happen to me. It just couldn’t.

And then as the pregnancy continued, more complications arose. Too much amniotic fluid they said. Possible Down Syndrome they said. High risk pregnancy they said. C-Section they said. I was losing this battle against my own personal demons, but my child was much too important to stop the fight. “Keep fighting. Keep fighting,” I said. Keep fighting was all I could do on the outside not knowing what would happen to my child on the inside.

And then at 36 weeks pregnant, just two weeks before my son’s arrival, my husband’s family went through major chances that shook my support here in Germany to its core. Instead of excitement and pure elation as I neared the end of this nightmare of a pregnancy, I felt sick to my stomach simply unaware of what the future might look like for my innocent baby boy. I cried in desperation to stay pregnant just a little bit longer while life fell apart all around me. I was tired. My body was tired. My lungs were no longer functioning properly due to the weight of amniotic fluid, but I just couldn’t bring my child into such a mess. “Just keep fighting,” my husband said.

And then my son was born. My beautiful son. My perfect baby boy. The one I had waited to meet yet knew for months, was finally in my arms. My husband and I, both tired and exhausted from 50 hours of labor, welcomed our baby boy at 11:52 pm on a late Tuesday night. We shared the news with my family and friends over text messages thousands of miles away. We didn’t have a single visitor see us in the hospital until Wednesday afternoon. I stayed up all night, the first hours of my son’s life, holding him. Calming his tears while calming my own. While the fears of his health were eased, my personal fears as a mother had only begun. My new life had just begun. I love this tiny person more than I could even describe with words, so why do I feel so lost? “I just gave birth in a foreign country,” I thought. “It’s just hormones. It will pass,” my doctors said.

“He’s got jaundice,” I said to the nurse in the hospital. “No, he’s fine,” said the medical professionals. “We would know. We are the doctors. You just relax,” I was told. Finally at my convincing and begging, my son was checked and indeed, had jaundice. The motherly instinct that protected my son and kept him strong enough to survive during the pregnancy was now in overdrive doing the same after his birth. I was just a dumb mother, right? I wasn’t the medical professional, right? Yet, I was correct. Again. I couldn’t trust the doctors and staff. They had failed me every single time.

“I need to protect my son. I need to protect my son,” I thought. “The only one who can truly protect him is me.” And that became my mission. From that moment on, I felt disconnected from most everyone else except for my son. Not even my own husband could protect our son quite like I could and quite like I have. Visions of terrible things raced through my head, and all I could do was find a way to stop them from happening. Our son slept in my arms so that I could feel him breathing each night. I never held him when opening a window, because the fear of him falling out of my arms and out of the window was less of a fear but more of a vision that played over and over in my head. The visions of all of the horrible things that could happen are the worst. I vowed to do everything I could to make sure nothing would happen to him. I became obsessive with this even so much so that I wouldn’t leave him even for a second (even if being held by someone else) in fear of my worst nightmare coming true. “I’m protecting my son,” I thought, “I am a good mother.”

Then as motherhood continued, I suddenly didn’t know who I was anymore. I knew it was more than the cliché sleep deprivation, which seems to be the only postpartum negative anyone openly talks about. I spent my days alone with a colicky infant who didn’t sleep and couldn’t be quieted. The 10-hour marathons of screaming became the soundtrack to my life. My husband’s life continued as he went back to work and maintained his identity. Mine was now covered in the spit up and tears of motherhood. I resented my husband deeply for this. There were many times when I didn’t want to comfort our screaming son anymore. I took him to the doctor only to be told that nothing was physically wrong with him. I just wanted to be left alone without hearing screaming. I was tired of being touched. I wanted my sanity back. Yet, I couldn’t bear to listen to his screaming. So I comforted him every single time. If he cried, he was in my arms doing so, sometimes even with his mother crying alongside him. I wanted my body back, but I loved the closeness of nursing him. It was the one thing I was sure of. I was good at it. He was good at it. It reassured me that we were meant to be together as mother and son even if I felt I didn’t deserve him because we were so in sync. Breastfeeding him was the only time he stayed quiet. And when his eyes latched onto mine with such love during one of his nursing sessions , it was the only time I felt complete as a mother.

Time passed and what I had hoped was just the “baby blues” never went away. I continued to walk through this journey feeling alone. Every person who saw us commented on how beautiful my son was. He was beautiful. He is beautiful. Every mother told me how beautiful this time was and how she loved it so much. I smiled and outwardly agreed while my heart broke on the inside. I didn’t know what this beautiful feeling even was. Why is it that every mother I meet seems so happy to be a mom? Why is it that she seems to be illuminated by the love she has in this stage of her life? Why am I not like that? What’s wrong with me? I must be a bad mom. I don’t deserve this baby at all. I had wanted him. I love him, but I am a terrible terrible mother.

I hid my feelings from my family for moths. It’s amazing how simply smiling distracts a person from really figuring out what is going on. I hid them from myself as best as I could. I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to hear myself say it. Finally, I looked it up.  “Postpartum depression.” I found a number of self-evaluation tests and quickly found that I experienced every single symptom. Irritability? Check.  Intense withdrawal and depression that won’t go away? Check.  Feelings of shame, guilt, and inadequacy? Check check check. Then there were other things like a lack of joy and paranoia  to even intense tingling and numbness in my hands.  Suddenly, instead of feeling burdened by the chains of depression, I felt the chains lifted by being able to put a name with all of these things I was feeling. I have a history of depression. I had a tough pregnancy physically and experienced depression during my pregnancy. I gave birth in a foreign country in a foreign language alone. I experienced dramatic family changes and in many ways lost a lot of the support I needed as a new mom in a foreign country here in Germany. I was homesick missing my own family and friends. I missed my husband who was busy at work and at school. I have this baby, and while he is amazing, he’s difficult and more demanding than even my midwife could imagine. The odds were stacked against me, yet somehow I’m still alive, and my son is healthy and thriving. I must have done something right.

But then the reality of treatment set in. I couldn’t place this burden on my husband. He already has too much on his plate. I couldn’t put this burden on our family members here with their own struggles to work through. I couldn’t let my family back home know what was really going through my head. It would only make them worry since they couldn’t be here to do anything to help. So I went to various mom groups and online forums to find some friends and understanding. Some were supportive. Others were less supportive. “Just give up your baby if you don’t think you deserve him,” one woman said. “Someone else would give anything to be in your situation. You’re selfish,” another woman said. Were they right? Am I selfish? Am I selfish for feeling this way? “Your husband will cheat on you and leave you if you don’t snap out of it,” one person said. “You are a terrible mother,” is what they were thinking. “I am a terrible person” is what I thought.

And then I see my son. The little boy who brings tears of joy to my eyes every time I think about how crazy I am for him. The little boy who makes us laugh and makes my heart feel things I’ve never felt before holding him in my arms. I could explode with all of the love I have for him. He’s so beautiful and smart. He’s so strong and incredibly verbal. He has so much of my strong will and determination in him, and I see it in him every single day. He’s my son, and he’s worth fighting for. And then I think of his father, my sweet husband. The same man who held my hand as I conquered his home country four years ago, the same man who fought the system with me in order to get married here, the same man who went to every single doctor’s appointment with me during my pregnancy. He’s such an amazing father, and he works so hard and gives himself so little in order to give everything he has to his wife and child. He’s worth fighting for too. I have to be emotionally healthy because it impacts the two people who matter most in my world, my boys.

When finally admitting to my husband what the past few months were really like for me, I could see the sadness in his eyes because it was a moment of happiness in my life taken away by something greater than I could fight alone. He felt guilty that we live here in Germany where he is most comfortable instead of in America where I am most comfortable. I could see the gears shifting in his head of how to “fix” me. I told him before he could even speak that he couldn’t. I just needed his support. I told him I couldn’t believe it happened to me…. I couldn’t believe that I am struggling with postpartum depression.

I apologized for being so weak, and he said, “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Callum is 6 Months Old!

Callum turned 6 months old on August 11, and I am filled with so many mixed emotions. I feel excited with each new change and each new development, but I am saddened by the fact that time is moving way too quickly. It seems like just yesterday he was starting to smile, and now a few short months later, he is becoming more and more his own person with a unique personality.

Temperament/Personality: Callum, you are very sweet and love to smile and be with people, but you have this side to you that is nothing short of spicy and stubborn. Your PawPaw calls you a “pepper,” and that is the perfect way to describe you. As long as you are on the go or in someone’s arms, you are an angel. As soon as we need to put you down or goodness, actually do something other than entertain you, you get mad mad mad! You’ll even yell at people if they aren’t paying attention to you! Even strangers!! You thrive with lots of attention, and you are way more social than you were 3 months ago. You smile and flirt, and overall, you are quite a delight to be around. Luckily, the colic has passed which means you are much happier! You are still very demanding with little desire to play by yourself, but happy Callum is a much MUCH easier baby than one that cries and screams for hours.

Likes: You love sitting up! You love sitting in your bouncy swing we just bought for you. It’s a nice distraction for Mom to do some ironing since your swing is set up in the doorway there. You also love sitting in your highchair. When Mom cooks or does dishes, you sit in your highchair and just watch while Mom tells you each step she is doing. You still love music and dancing. We spend a lot of time listening to different music, and you just light up.You really enjoy “standing” with support and bouncing to the beat of whatever song is playing. If you are fussy, music is still our go-to to change your mood.  You are also very interested in books. You’ve always liked being read to and watching the pages turn, but now you like to turn the pages yourself. Sometimes you will even start “talking” when Mom begins to read a new page. She likes to think it is you reading to her. 🙂 You love being outside! You love going to your Oma’s house and laying in the backyard and watching the trees sway back and forth in the breeze. You stay quite content for several minutes. You love playtime with Papa and light up when he comes home each day from work. You enjoy sitting on his shoulders and being tall and looking down at your short mommy.

Dislikes: You hate being put in crawling position, and Mom has to make sure you are in a super good mood in order to do so. Otherwise, you scream the entire time. You also hate being left “alone” for any period of time. If Mom has to change out laundry, you are in one arm while she uses her other arm to function. She will let you fuss though if she is doing something dangerous that might hurt you (ironing, cooking). For those situations, she tries to wait until someone else is at home with you to keep you content while she catches up on things around the house.

Nursing/Nutrition: You’re still my nursing champ! We’re 6 months in and going strong. You are much much more efficient with nursing. Each session is only about 5 minutes long. You like to nurse every two hours. Even on the rare occasion of getting a bottle of pumped milk, you’ll stop drinking after an ounce or two. You are a snacker rather than a real eater. Nursing has been pretty easy for us, and for that I am very grateful. The only thing making nursing harder than before is the fact that you pay attention to everything going on around you. If I nurse you in public or around lots of people, you lose focus and stop nursing. You are now beginning solid foods. Mommy and Papa decided to skip the rice cereal completely and just wait to give you real food until you were at least six months. The very first food you ate was mashed avocado on your 6-month birthday. You were less than impressed with the whole situation. We’ll work on it, dude. Next up, carrots. We’ll see how it goes.

Diapering: Before our trip to the United States at 4 almost 5 months, we were going strong with cloth diapers. We switched to disposables during your three weeks in America. Mom has yet to go back to cloth since returning to Germany! :O Oops!! We’ll definitely be returning to cloth though.

Sleeping: If there was one thing I can honestly say I hate, it’s the fact that YOU DON’T SLEEP. It takes hours to put you to bed each night. You wake up after that every hour just wanting to play. Luckily, we can get you back to sleep relatively well after awhile, but Mom has to comfort nurse you back to sleep. (It’s a terrible terrible crutch we are working on breaking.) We consider it a good day if you sleep for an hour during the day. Otherwise, you are go go go from 6:30 each morning until 10:00 each night. We are exhausted!!

Social Development: Sweet baby boy, you are a flirt! You smile and just make everyone go crazy over you. You laugh more and more and by other people now. Your Uncle John had you cracking up when you saw him in July, and he was the first person other than Mommy or Papa to make you laugh that hard. You are very aware of when attention is and is not on you. When you know people are watching you, you perform and stay super sweet and funny. When attention is focused elsewhere, you yell yell yell (not scream) in a deep voice to get our attention. When we turn to you, you perform once again. One thing that impressed Mom was how well you did during various parties for you during your trip to America. Lots of people held you, and unless you were tired or hungry, you stayed content.  (Again, the attention was ALL on you!) You kept your eyes on your mom and wherever she went, but you remained calm and relaxed.

Cognitive Development: You love to imitate us especially with sticking out your tongue. You also recognize that if an object falls out of your hand, it needs to be picked up. You can also locate sounds (when you want to) from a distance. You definitely know who your parents are. You smile and giggle when Papa comes home from work and sees you first thing. When you want to be with Mommy, you will raise your arms to get picked up.

Speech Development: You talk. all.the.time. Your Nanny is convinced it is because you are bilingual, but I’m not so sure about that. Everything I have read has said that bilingual babies may develop slower than monolingual babies when it comes to speech. So far, that isn’t the case. You speak single and double syllable sounds at a range of octaves and volumes. You scream talk more with your father in a loud volume. You speak softer in a higher pitched tone with me. Interestingly, that’s usually how we talk to YOU! Something that is semi-related that concerned us was that sometimes you don’t respond to noises in the room. If we call your name or make a new sound, sometimes you don’t respond. We had your hearing checked by your doctor with a couple of different noise tests, and you passed with flying colors responding to each one. When asked why sometimes you respond and sometimes you don’t, your doctor said you are a very visual baby. If you are focused on something, you don’t break focus for anything else. Another thing is that with you hearing two languages all of the time, the part of your brain processing sounds may be a bit overloaded. Bottom line is that you can hear. You often just choose not to.

Physical Development: You’ve discovered your body! You hold your own hand which is really sweet. You also continue to put everything into your mouth, including your feet. You are switching objects between both hands and even holding things one-handed. When getting your bath by Papa, you discovered that you are indeed a male. So there you go! You lift your whole upper body off the ground with ease, and you prefer sitting and standing up than lying down. You dislike tummy time, so we have to keep you very entertained the whole time. You have rolled over, but you seemed to have stopped for some reason. Now when on your tummy, you put your head down, lift your butt up, and try to scoot forward. It doesn’t really work out successfully, so instead of going forward, you just sort of turn yourself in a circle. We just got your highchair put together, and you sit in it with ease. You are still very musical and you like to bounce on your two legs to the beat of the music. Lastly, drool drool drool. You have loads of drool, but you don’t have any visible teeth yet.

Appearance: Still our lean little man, it is very hard to find clothes thin enough to fit you. 3 month and 3-6 month clothes fit your waist. They are all, however, WAY too short in the legs. Luckily with it being summer, what used to be pants now fit you as shorts. Your Oma says you are built like your father as a baby which is why she had to make his baby clothes. Your eyes are officially brown, and they seem to be lightening up. We think that means you will have your mother’s honey brown eyes. You seem to have some green in your skin which means you are pulling from the Native American roots on your mom’s side. Your hair is starting to get longer on the top now too. I’ve actually had to start brushing it otherwise it all sticks up!  Lots of people say you look like me. Others say you look like your father. Others think you look a lot like your Onkel Jan. BUT, you definitely look like Callum! You are such a beautiful baby boy!

I can’t believe that we are already at this point. When I was pregnant with you, I couldn’t imagine you as a 6-month old. I felt like getting to 6 months would take an eternity. Getting to this point shows me how fleeting time is and how special these last six months with you have really been to me. I cherish every smile, every snuggle, and every moment of our special bond that we share. You’re my first baby, my little boy who changed my entire world and shook me upside down only to find how raw, how real, how emotional, how trying, and how beautiful motherhood really is. I am sure as you continue to grow and change, I will continue to grow and change with you as your mom. Just remind me to bring the tissues along the way because I’m not sure my heart can stand it!

Here’s to another 6 months, kleiner Mann! 🙂 I love you so much.

Love,

Mommy

Here are a few pictures from the last three months of your life:

Welcome to America, Little Boy

One of the things I have been looking forward to most since Callum’s birth was being able to fly him home to America for the first time. I just couldn’t wait to get this little boy in his other country he calls home and have him meet so many of his family members for the first time.  The last time I was in the States was when I got married here late 2012! With my pregnancy with Callum being as difficult as it was, getting to America any sooner just wasn’t possible. Now that Callum has U.S. Citizenship, a passport, and is a bit more adjusted in this world, I figured it was time to book the ticket and just make this happen.

I’ve never EVER had a fear of flying or the fact that I am in this steel object hurling across the sky with the cold Atlantic thirty thousand feet below me. I’ve always enjoyed flying and found it pretty relaxing. Leading up to this trip, I started feeling the pangs of nervousness I had never experienced before. What if something happens to the plane and we crash?? My child would be gone. I would be gone. Poor Roman!! These thoughts just raced through my mind, and all I could think about was how scared I was to willingly put my child and myself through this. Becoming a mom changed me in numerous ways,  but perhaps the mama grizzly instinct to protect my child is one of the biggest ones. That very instinct affects a number of things I had never even thought of before in regards to my own life.

The other fear I had was simply being on this flight alone with Callum. Everyone who has ever flown on an airplane with an infant on board KNOWS the faces passengers give when they realize an infant is nearby. Those same irritated expressions become even more animated when that infant begins to cry. Callum can be very fussy, and my biggest fear was simply being overwhelmed on the plane with no one to lean on for support, no one to pace up and down the aisles with Callum, and no one to just share the frustration with. I wouldn’t have a Roman to take turns soothing a fussy infant with while taking turns going to the bathroom or even getting something down from the overhead bin.

So June 30, 2014, Roman and I woke the baby, got him dressed, and we made our way to the airport. If there is ever a terrible feeling, it was the one I felt when leaving Roman in Stuttgart. It feels so unnatural being separated from him for any amount of time anyways, but being apart for three weeks knowing he is not only separate from me but his son, was difficult for me. I just wanted him with us, but I couldn’t help but be thankful that he has the job he has and the ability to study for his MBA like he is currently doing. After a hug and even a few tears, Callum and I said our goodbyes to his sweet papa and made our way to the gate alone.

If there was any advice I could give about traveling with an infant, it is this. WEAR YOUR BABY IN A BABY CARRIER! This made all of the difference for me traveling alone. I could just put Callum in his baby carrier and have both hands free to carry suitcases, handle tickets and passports, and not lose my pace since I wasn’t trying to juggle everything at once. I wasn’t able to wear the baby carrier going through security, but it really wasn’t an issue. Also, since I had an infant with me, we could board the plane earlier than everyone else. I was so thankful for that. I could take my time on the plane getting everything he needed out and ready before it was packed full of people. During takeoff, I nursed Callum to keep his ears from bothering him, and off we went. 10 hours…. here goes nothing!

Callum was an absolute doll the first 20 minutes of the flight. Aaaand then he got bored which meant Mom had to keep him happy, not always an easy task on an airplane. I packed an entire bag of books and toys and kept new things coming every few minutes to keep his attention. This worked for a good hour. After an hour, Callum got fussy and less patient. I quickly learned that putting him in the baby carrier and walking up and down the aisles with lots of bouncing kept him calm and eventually put him to sleep. Needless to say, I spent a lot of time walking the aisle with that boy. The only time we really had an issue was when Callum wanted to be carried in the baby carrier and I had to stay in my seat thanks to North Atlantic turbulence. Callum cried and screamed for a few hours, yes hours. Sorry, passengers!! I got some bad looks and even a few negative comments, but most passengers seemed to feel the most sorry for the lone mom who had to claim this screaming tiny human as her child. In case anyone wondered, the reason you can’t open airplane windows is solely to prevent parents from tossing out their children. The thought may or may not have entered my brain a time or two. But like with anything, I reminded myself that if I could get through 50 hours of labor, I could handle 10 hours of anything else. And I did. Callum was a champ going through customs and immigration, as well as the time difference, and with a simple “Welcome to America, little boy,” Callum and I were off to find his Grandpa and Aunt Lala who came to pick us up from the airport.

Watching my father’s face as he held his first grandson for the first time was so special to me. I could see the pride in my dad’s face as he walked around the airport calling this little boy his grandson. My sister, Lauren, finally held Callum and melted just as I did months earlier. She was an aunt. He was her nephew. A little piece of her remains a part of him, and they bonded right away. Callum and I spent the first few days adjusting in Birmingham, AL with Grandpa and my stepmother, Callum’s Bibi, and Callum’s Uncle Keenan, Aunt Nani, and Tia G,  then we headed off to Florida to celebrate Callum’s 1st 4th of July!

Callum also got to meet his godmother, Aunt Emerald, and his other Tuscaloosa “family” for the first time. Callum met my dear friends Debbie and Alissa, two of the three ladies responsible for me even meeting Roman in the first place back in 2009! He also got to meet the first little boy to capture my heart, Oak. Oak was the little boy I spent almost 5 years babysitting and watching grow up. That little boy isn’t so little anymore, and watching him play with Callum brought back so many sweet memories with his family and remembering when Oak was once as small and tiny as Callum is now.  We were so fortunate to spend a few days in the Mobile/Daphne area visiting my brother and his wife in their new home. Callum had an absolute blast. Callum had already met my mother and stepfather, Callum’s Nanny and Paw Paw, when he was a week old, and he got to spend a week with them in New Orleans during our trip home this time around as well. He loved seeing them again.

I had worried about all of the traveling for such a little dude, but Callum handled it better than expected. He was sweet and friendly, fussy at times, but pretty easy to keep entertained. His eyes were wide open the whole trip just taking it all in and experiencing America. With each new face Callum met, my heart continued to grow and grow with happiness. I cannot begin to express in words how incredible it was for me to see the people closest in my life loving on and interacting with my son. The hardest reality of living so far away that never gets easier to swallow is the fact that no matter where you live, half of your family will always be thousands of miles away. For me in particular, my family couldn’t really experience my pregnancy with Callum. What they knew about it, they heard in phone conversations or saw from photos. I gave birth in a foreign hospital holding no one else’s hand but my husband’s and didn’t have visitors until the next day. There are a lot of moments in my life I simply have to experience alone, and knowing and loving Callum felt like another one of those things to add to the list. That changed with our trip to America. Suddenly, everyone had a little boy to hug and kiss and make memories with. They could see his sweet smile light a room. They got to hold his tiny hands and kiss his tiny feet. They got to hold and snuggle him and enjoy the very moments with him that I’ve enjoyed over the past few months of his life. And with each laugh and smile on my son’s face, a memory was made and one I will cherish and never forget.

The funny thing about life is that you can do all of these amazing things and visit all of these amazing places and never feel the least bit homesick, but when you have a baby, all you want to do is be home. And while I love Germany very much, that longing for my own home is one I simply cannot ignore. Roman and I have never made any plans on when or where we will ultimately call “home”, and I feel that in our world, that is probably for the best. I couldn’t tell you where we will be in 5 years.  So in the meantime, I’ll just hug my baby boy tight, close my eyes and take a deep breath, and remember the moment of just being home as a new mom for the first time.

 

 

Holland, Baby!!

I spend all day every day at home covered in SOMETHING from Callum. And while I love being a mom and wear the spit and drool like a badge of honor, actually leaving home let alone the country, is quite a treat these days. Roman spends his week days at work while working on his MBA usually fills up his weekends. With time together being so limited these days, the one thing I really wanted for my 1st Mother’s Day was some quality family time… just me, my husband, and our baby with no distractions of any kind. Roman pulled through by planning a wonderful long weekend in a place neither of us had ever been before, The Netherlands!!  This also happened to be Callum’s first international experience as it was his first time leaving German borders.

We set off on our journey on Thursday afternoon. Roman planned for us to stay in Aachen, Germany Thursday night. While it isn’t Holland, this was very special to me. Back in 2010, before Roman and I were even married, before we had a baby, and before I even moved to Germany, Roman lived in the Aachen area for a few months while writing his Bachelor thesis with a company located there. While he and I were still in a long-distance relationship, I actually flew into Cologne, Germany and stayed with Roman in Aachen for a few weeks. My trip was only supposed to be for three weeks, but the volcanoes that erupted in Iceland in 2010 prevented flights from traveling over the Atlantic giving me an extra two weeks with my German beau. This apartment (in Würselen specifically) was my first living experience in Germany. While Roman worked during the day, I spent hours walking around the village, going to the grocery store trying to learn German words at the supermarket and how to easily use the Euro without looking like the tourist I so obviously was. I remember trying to cook Roman German meals in that apartment (and failing miserably). That time together was the first solid chunk of time we had ever spent together and solidified our relationship enough for me to make a huge leap of faith and actually move to Germany a few months later.  Roman interviewed for jobs while in that apartment ultimately finding one that brought us to Baden-Württemberg to set up our “home” where we live today. Lots of memories were made in that apartment for us, so it was really special to drive by and see the apartment and stay in that area for the night.

The top two floors were our apartment in Würselen

Driving through Würselen

Aachen

The next morning (Friday), we woke up and set out for the first stop of our Dutch adventure- Rotterdam! Rotterdam is such a fantastic city. Home to Europe’s largest port, the city is incredibly modern and industrial just oozing with innovation and creativity wherever you turn. The city is just covered with harbors receiving and sending freight around Europe. Rotterdam is also known for having unique architecture, and it certainly didn’t disappoint. We saw very interesting buildings and bridges every time we turned a corner. For being the second largest city in The Netherlands, we were also impressed by how clean the city was. It was very difficult to find litter anywhere! We visited what is now called Hotel New York which is located in the old head offices of the Holland American Line, the former cruise ship that went directly to America. Many immigrants left Europe to begin a new life in America on that ship! We did quite a bit of walking, so when we got hungry, we looked for a place to sit, rest, and get a bite to eat. Callum was having none of that. He refused to lay down in his stroller, and he woke up crying in the baby carrier if we weren’t constantly walking. Needless to say, sitting down and enjoying a quiet meal just didn’t happen on this trip… Maybe next time!! My favorite part of the trip was visiting the area of Rotterdam called Delfshaven. Delfshaven is one of the only parts of Rotterdam that avoided German bombings when German forces took over Holland in 1940. Everything in Delfshaven kept its original shape and form, a rare gem in such a modern city like Rotterdam. We enjoyed the area, and we even met a wonderful Dutch couple who invited us into their restaurant for some homemade food. They were so kind and didn’t mind Callum’s fussiness. That was the only chance we had to sit down and eat in a restaurant the entire trip. Later that evening, we stopped at a local supermarket to pick up some staples, then went to the hotel for “dinner” while Callum stretched out his legs and played, played, played!

 

Delfshaven- my favorite spot in Rotterdam

With my baby bear in Delfshaven

Delfshaven, my favorite spot in Rotterdam

 

The next morning (Saturday), we drove to Schiedam which wasn’t far from our hotel. Schiedam houses the five largest windmills in the world. I was just blown away at how amazing these things are! All of the windmills sat along a river making it a really nice walk and chance to explore the city a bit. We stepped into one windmill, and inside was a bakery where they were selling flour made from the windmill. After visiting Schiedam, we drove to Kinderdijk to visit the UNESCO World Heritage Site featuring the most concentrated number of windmills. Can you tell we were all about some windmills? Kinderdijk was fascinating especially since we got to go inside and take a tour of one that a family actually lived in. Baby Bear Callum slept in his baby carrier the whole time, so the visit was extra peaceful for Mom and Dad. After Kinderdijk, we were on our way to Amsterdam!!

Schiedam

Schiedam

Schiedam

My family ❤

Kinderdijk

Worried about the hustle and bustle of the city with the baby, Roman booked two nights for us in this adorable bed & breakfast in North Amsterdam, just a ferry ride away from the city. It was quaint and peaceful, and the owner of the B&B gave plenty of details about the property. It was a former doctor’s villa. The doctor would live in the main home then practice medicine in the connected studio, which is the room we actually stayed in. The owner’s husband was the final doctor in residence before he passed away. The wife fulfilled their dream together and turned everything into a nice B&B. If you are interested, it is called B&B Kwint. (http://www.bbkwint.nl/index.html). The owner just adored Callum, and he seemed to really enjoy hearing her speak Dutch to him since he would just smile and smile every time she addressed him. We had a lovely stay.

Hanging out at the B&B

Our first full day in Amsterdam was a bit stressful. I think this was the day both Roman and I probably could have packed up the car and just drive home. Traveling with Callum is just totally different than any of our other adventures together. Without being on an actual schedule, I think I realized how scheduled Callum really is. He loves nursing himself to sleep which is fine when we are home with nothing else to do. But when we are out and about, I can’t just sit in the same place for an hour to let him nurse himself to sleep and stay asleep. We planned downtime at the B&B for him to rest, but when we were there, he just wanted to play since he could really stretch out and move those legs. Sleeping? Of course he waited until the moment he absolutely could NOT nurse himself to sleep. Our first day in Amsterdam was really just a lot of walking around and taking in the scenery. Roman and I were so tired, and neither of us really had the energy or patience to actually DO stuff. Walking around was perfect, and we decided to find a store to get some things to bring back to the B&B for dinner. Remember, Callum refused to stay calm anytime we sat down to attempt to eat in a restaurant. We just decided not to push our luck and keep trying since it just ended with us getting frustrated every time. So Roman found a grocery store chain location in Amsterdam that we liked in Rotterdam and decided to get some food there. They served a lot of fresh things as well as warm things, so we still could get somewhat of a glimpse of Dutch cuisine. The only problem is that we were so far away from the store that we never actually found it! Getting close to Callum’s bedtime and knowing we still needed to catch the ferry, we picked up food at the main train station and went on our way. Unfortunately, we missed the ferry by less than a minute, and we had to wait 30 minutes for the next one to take us. Luckily, Callum stayed calm for awhile. I nursed him while we waited, and he happily waited the 30 minutes until the next departing ferry. He found some French tourists to stare at that seemed to intrigue him. Perhaps he’s an avid France lover like his mother? 🙂 Callum also stayed awake and pleasant on the ferry ride. He loved watching the big boats come and go, and while he was perfectly sweet, I knew in my gut that this was his final gust of energy before he just totally loses it with exhaustion. It was when we got off the ferry that Callum started to melt down. Like scream so loud people probably thought we were kidnapping him melt down. He was so tired, but we couldn’t stop. We needed to walk 20 minutes back to the B&B. We just needed to get him home. So Callum screamed the whole way home. It was horrifying actually. People were looking at us from inside of their homes. We were just at a loss as to what to do other than just hurry and get him to sleep. I was so upset because nothing we did calmed him down. So I ran. I just ran home to the B&B. Looking back at it, I am sure we looked absolutely ridiculous. Me running with Callum in my arms just wailing with Roman following behind with a stroller full of stuff. Once home, Callum was wide awake and ready to play…. The kid just wanted to stretch out and play.

The canals of Amsterdam

Amsterdam

The next morning, we got up early and made the most of our day. We visited the Zaanse Schans, an old Dutch village, in the morning. It was here that we got to see Dutch clogs being made. This was a tourist spot, so we were able to buy all kinds of souvenirs and gifts here. We chose not to pay to go into the windmills since we had already seen the ones in Schiedam and Kinderdijk. We did buy Callum some little clogs for his first trip. They didn’t have them small enough for a baby of course, so we got him the smallest size that will fit him when he is 2 years old. After Zaanse Schans, we took a nap break at the B&B then hit Amsterdam one last time. Callum happily slept in the baby carrier allowing me and Roman the ability to just take in the city without worrying about the baby. With Callum sleeping, we wanted to walk through the Red Light District first to get it out of the way. I think the overprotective mother in me just wanted to shield him from whatever it was we might encounter.

Zaanse Schans

With my son at Zaanse Schans

Watching the animals at Zaanse Schans

Love my boys!

We stayed on main streets and didn’t really walk down many smaller streets, but it was very interesting nonetheless. Overall, it was rather calm when we visited. Many of the red curtains were closed. We visited in the early afternoon, and we were told that most of the people who “visit” here like to do so discreetly at night when they are less noticeable. Early afternoon isn’t the big money making time, so it was mostly closed. That was just fine for us. There were still women working, and it was really surreal to actually witness in person. This was the Red Light District in Amsterdam! What? I think it made my husband a bit uncomfortable, which I actually found quite enduring. He made the comment that it seemed very disrespectful, which in many ways, I agree with. I, on the other hand, was less “shocked.” Maybe it’s the New Orleans in me. Maybe it’s just the plain female in me. I didn’t find anything super shocking. I just found it a bit sad. One can never be totally sure if a woman is working out of her own free will or whether she was trafficked to work. No matter what, I feel that the female body should be praised and respected instead of objectified. And let’s face it, that’s just how it is there. It wasn’t long after that Roman started getting a headache from the fragrant “coffee” shops, and we decided to leave. It wasn’t more than a few minutes that we were there, but it was enough to say we had at least been. We had other things to see!

We spent the rest of the day just cruising the town. Amsterdam really is a beautiful city. I just loved the tall, skinny buildings that are so unique to the country. I loved the dark colors of building with brightly-colored shutters on the windows. I loved the canals that laced through the city making each street so incredibly intimate and romantic. The sound of the water trickling gave the entire city this sense of calm and easy going atmosphere. We loved watching the boats cruise along, and it was really impressive to see so many house boats with people actually living in them. More than seeing the attractions, I am most intrigued about how others live their normal day-to-day lives. Amsterdam certainly didn’t disappoint. Knowing this was our last day in Amsterdam and last day in The Netherlands, Roman and I just soaked everything in. We had a wonderful time, and even Callum woke up to watch boats cruise the canals with us. We went back to the B&B, and I am happy to report that going back this time was much easier with Callum than the night before. We got back to the B&B, tucked the baby into our bed, and we went to sleep happily satisfied with a few days well spent in Holland.

Beautiful architecture

The canals of Amsterdam

The next morning, we said goodbye to our wonderful hostess at the B&B and headed home for Germany. Callum wasn’t happy sitting in the car seat for long, which sadly seems to be the new normal these days. When we was actually quiet or sleeping, it was nice to have uninterrupted conversation with my husband on the road. We have traveled plenty over the course of our relationship, but this time was just different. We both commented on how so many of our conversations were about organizing the baby and making sure everything was in order for him. We also couldn’t spend a whole lot of time in museums and things knowing Callum’s personality the way we do. But nonetheless, it was a learning experience for us as first-time parents traveling to another country for the first time. Most importantly, it was solid togetherness as a family that I have been missing. What I wanted was time with my two dudes, so it was the perfect Mother’s Day present. And seeing windmills wasn’t half bad either… 😉

My German-American baby loving Holland!!

Callum Joseph: 3 Months Out!

Callum turned 3 months old on May 11, which happened to fall on Mother’s Day this year! I can’t believe 3 months have already passed. What a blessing he is. His very existence made me become a mother, Roman a father, our siblings aunts and uncles for the first time, and our parents became grandparents. He holds a special place in our lives, and we love him more than any words could possibly describe. These first few months of being parents for the first time were not without their challenges, and I wanted to be able to write for my own memories someday how far we have all progressed as a little family of three. And since the MOST important reader someday of this post will be Callum himself, I’ll write this to him. 🙂

Temperament/Personality: Sweet Callum, since you were in Mommy’s belly, you have ALWAYS been incredibly stubborn and headstrong. Always. I could never make you move or kick. You gave us a few frights because of that sometimes! Since your birth, not much has changed in the way of that. You are still very headstrong and stubborn. You never took to a pacifier or any contraption or gadget bought to occupy your time and keep you happy. You also never liked being held like a baby. Always upright for you. You get bored very easily and need constant entertainment from someone when you are awake, and we usually have to keep changing activities and toys since you get bored quickly. And boy, do you let us know! Son, you are the loudest baby I have ever heard in my life. Even in the hospital, the doctors said you were one of the loudest babies they had ever heard. In the beginning, you were extremely fussy. If you were awake, you were usually crying. Now you laugh and smile, and you spend lots of time talking to us, but you are still overall a high-maintenance baby. Early on, it was very rare for anyone else other than Mama to be able to hold you without you screaming. Now, you wait a bit longer with new faces before calling out for Mama or Papa. So far, you are a bit slow to warm up and very cautious of new people and surroundings. You definitely observe before doing. But once you feel comfortable enough, which isn’t long, you just go go go and keep us laughing the whole time. You are doing things now to make us laugh, and you are very aware of that. You interact so much now, and you love hamming it up when I am taking your picture or a video of you. When you are doing something cute that I want to record, I have to sneak the camera or else you will stop and just focus on that. I wouldn’t say you are an easy baby at 3 months, but you are definitely easier overall (or Mom is just better at handling you!!). You laugh and smile with us, and you are very talkative. Your sweet smile somehow makes all of the tough times worth it. It doesn’t matter if you are in a good mood or bad mood, everything you do, you do with lots of passion. You are going to do amazing things someday.

Likes: Since you were in Mommy’s belly, you have had a special relationship with music. We listen to music every day. You love listening to the “Dance of the Clowns” from Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker. You also really love Pearl Jam’s Backspacer album and Will Smith’s song, “Gettin’ Jiggy With It.” Even though I play lots of different kinds of music for you, you always calm down with those three selections. Go figure. We also think it is so incredible that you move in rhythm to the beat of whatever song is playing. We will definitely encourage a musical instrument when you are older. You also love books. Even though you are kind of a high-maintenance baby who gets bored easily, you will sit for quite awhile while I read to you. Your favorite books are the black and white picture books and baby faces books from your Great Aunt Ann. You sit and smile back to the babies on the page. You also love playing airplane with Papa. He’ll fly you around the apartment, and your little face just lights up, especially when he flies you right to Mama for a smooch! You also like moving and kicking. Your activity jungle is perfect for you! You get so excited when you hit the tiger that plays a song when you roll the attached ball with your little hand. You kick the little parrot with your foot. Your little feet just never stop moving. At first you hated diaper changes, but now you do really well during them. You love looking at the wall I decorated with lots of fun pictures for you. You travel very well and do quite well in the car. You hate being put in your carseat, and once in it, you need to stay in motion. You fuss as soon as you are still for 1 second. Yes, I have counted. But once you are in the car, you usually fall to sleep and give us some peace and quiet. You also like when we wear you in the baby carrier from your Grandpa and Kiki. You just love being with us, and we love you and want you with us. So it works for everyone. The BEST time for you is bath time. You LOVE bath time. We used to bathe you in your baby tub on our bathroom floor, but you successfully kicked half of the water out of the tub and onto the floor every time we gave you a bath. Papa always had to clean up! In recent weeks, we have moved your baby tub into the big bath tub. That way you can splash as much as you want without any clean up. Your Papa is the main bath giver. Mama helps too and comes in to play, but that is your special time with your dad that both of you enjoy.

Dislikes: Son, you hate that you can’t move. There is so much frustration in your little life right now because you aren’t quite mobile just yet. When you are doing your tummy time, you try so hard to move forward. When you can’t on your own, you scream. You also hate being held like a baby. In addition to that, you absolutely hate when you don’t have someone playing with you or holding you. You demand constant attention. You also refuse to sleep anywhere other than near your mom. If we move you or try to put you to bed somewhere other than with your mom, you just lose it. You hate being still. Even if you are in your stroller “on the go”, we have to roll over bumpy areas for you to keep quiet. You hate getting out of the bath tub and back into clothes. You are definitely a tried and true Aquarius (Wassermann auf deutsch). As I mentioned above, we have to constantly think ahead to keep you entertained and keep you from getting bored. You get pretty upset if you aren’t stimulated enough. We have bought books and toys for much older babies that are a bit more challenging to figure out, and you seem to like them the best. You have no interest in “baby” music or music designed for babies. You prefer adult versions and classical music.

Nursing: Since day one of your life, you have been exclusively breastfed. Overall, it hasn’t been too difficult to get used to. The demand on me as your only food source was a bit stressful and overwhelming in the beginning, but now we seem to make a good team, you and I. There was a bit of a struggle around weeks 3-5 with nursing. You would fall asleep after 30 seconds of nursing, and we couldn’t keep you awake. This meant that you were always nursing and never really full. You were still gaining the proper amount of weight and having the right amount of diapers, but your demand was so low. This caused my supply to lessen a bit. Your first pediatrician said I should give you a some formula after nursing to keep you full. Mom disagreed with this completely since she HAD milk to give you.  Why buy formula and spend the money?? We just needed to get the supply up and get you nursing more efficiently. You have always been a lazy nurser since birth! Mom worked with her midwife, Tina, and followed a pumping schedule to help. You were given a bottle of breastmilk after your normal feeds which kept you happy. Pumping helped with the supply/demand issue for Mom. Once you were a bit older, we stopped pumping and went back to nursing on demand since you were drinking more each time. And that’s where we are now. You still fall asleep with nursing, so you like to eat about every 2 hours. Lately, you have been doing this super funny thing where you nurse for a bit, make eye contact with me, latch off, and just laugh laugh laugh. It makes Mama and Papa laugh with you. You will do that over and over. Already the comedian….You get that from your mom’s sister, Aunt Lala. 😉

Diapering: For the first 10 weeks of your life, we used disposable diapers. The idea of even using cloth diapers with you and having extra laundry to take care of when I was just barely getting 5 minutes a day without you in my arms just wasn’t happening. After week 10, all of the gift disposable diapers had been used, and you and I were doing well enough to handle an extra few loads of laundry a week, so we started cloth diapering. Mom received lots of diapers as baby gifts, so all it really took was just washing them once, and they were good to go. You still use disposables at night and when we are on the go for several hours. When Mom puts the inserts into the covers, you enjoy watching and having conversations with Mom about the colors, etc.

 Sleeping: As tough as our days can be, Mom can usually count on you to sleep well through the night. Since we brought you home from the hospital, you would sleep from 10pm until 3 am every single night. I would change you, nurse you, and you were good to go and usually already trying to fall asleep for another couple of hours.  Usually you fall asleep in Mama’s arms around 9pm, then we bring you to bed when we are ready (usually around 10), and you will sleep until sometime between 4 and 5 in the morning. Mom wakes up and changes you, then back to bed you will go. You have never slept in your crib (oops!) though, and you sleep with us in the bed. We tried to get you to sleep in the bassinet in our room next to the bed for a few nights, and you just never took to it. Ever. So, we are just going with the flow and keeping you in the bed with us until you show more signs of going in that direction. Everyone is happier and gets more sleep with you in the bed with us. It also makes our night time feed much easier since I don’t have to leave the bed. Since you are happier, you sleep for longer stretches keeping us all pretty well rested considering we have a  baby in the house!

Your daytime napping is getting shorter and with longer space in between. I can still count on at least one nap during the day that is a solid two hours. I have tried everything to get you to sleep in your crib, our bed, the guest bed, or your bassinet, but you never sleep well on your own. If I put you to bed after a feed, a change, and some rocking in your chair, you never go to sleep! If I put you down while sleeping, you will wake up a few minutes later super angry that your nap was cut short. This isn’t easy on Mom during the day, which is why a lot of things around the house get put aside until Papa gets home and can play with you while Mom gets some housework done. No worries though, I am well-aware that you are the only baby I will ever have without any other children to focus on. You get my full attention, and I am totally enjoying taking in every moment as a mommy with one baby. Needless to say, I don’t mind that you need to snooze in your Mama’s arms. It causes me to stop, relax, and focus on just being your mom,

Daily Routine: Some may totally disagree, but I was totally against putting you on a schedule for a long time. I never wanted to deny you nursing or cuddling because your schedule said you should be sleeping or whatever. So, because of that, I never put you on a schedule.  Instead, I nurse completely on demand when you want and have allowed you to work out your own routine and schedule which works for us both. The only rule I follow is that as soon as you wake up, I like to change your diaper. That’s it. Over the past few months, you have made your own schedule with me that goes something like this.

*You wake up on your own at 6:15. You have become Papa’s alarm clock for work and school! He gets dressed then takes you into the living room to play while he eats breakfast and gets ready for the day. The two of you have play time together, and Mom gets to stay in bed a bit longer and have a bit of alone time. (Though she often stays awake in bed just listening to the two of you talking to each other.) Papa brings you back to Mom in bed with a clean cloth diaper on, and then he leaves for work around 7:30. You and I stay in bed for another hour.

*Once we are both awake, Mom takes you to your room where she changes your diaper and gets you dressed for the day. Once changed, you come with Mom and lay in the hallway into the kitchen on your soft mat and watch Mom make her breakfast (yours too!!) She talks to you about what she is making and what she is doing. You love listening to the water run in the sink or tea kettle heat water for Mom’s tea. You also like listening to the stove when she is making her two egg whites every morning. You either nurse while I eat my breakfast, or you play in your activity jungle. Then we play together for a few hours or you play alone while Mom gets a few things done around the house.

*Once you show signs of being sleepy,  Mom nurses you then puts you in the car seat (if we have errands to run that day) or she just keeps you in her lap for your nap. You will usually sleep for about an hour. When you wake up, you get a fresh diaper and we play play play together. We read books together, we play with your toys together, you have tummy time again (you get it with Papa in the mornings), and whatever else we can do to pass time together. We repeat this throughout the day.

*Later in the afternoons, Mom likes to put you in the baby carrier and take you on walks outside. At first you just slept, but now you enjoy looking around and taking in the view of your birth country. Mom talks to you about what you are looking at, what you are smelling, what you are seeing, and you stay very entertained while Mom gets some much needed exercise and fresh air. If it is rainy outside, you do a mommy/baby exercise video with me instead.

*When Papa gets home, he plays with you while Mom takes her shower post-workout. This is more tummy time and toy playing/reading with him. We usually eat salad and some sort of protein for dinner, so usually Papa prepares that while Mom nurses you. He’s the best salad maker of the two of us as you will soon find out! If Mom is cooking, Papa is still playing with you until you have a meltdown.  If it is NOT a bath night, you and I will wait to go on our walk until he gets home and can join us for some family time. If it is a bath night, Mom walks with you alone earlier in the day. That way we have plenty of time to give you your bath at night before you start getting sleepy and fussy.

*We put you in your pajamas at around 8:30. Papa is usually the one who gets you dressed for bed while Mama is cleaning up from dinner and doing other daily household tasks while you are happily entertained. We try to get you tired enough so that you just fall to sleep in my arms around 9 or so. That gives your parents some time to catch up on shows we wanted to watch or just chat. Sometimes you just fight sleep, which obviously is less relaxing for us! If all is well, Papa takes you for one last diaper change while Mom gets ready for bed. He brings you to the bed, and Mom nurses you, and then you fall asleep pretty quickly without fuss! You usually stay asleep for 5-6 hours or longer.

*All of what I wrote as our schedule is a very loose detailing of how our day runs. If you need extra cuddle time, extra sleep time, extra nursing time, I follow. I don’t push you in any direction. If you are awake and alert, we play. If you are sleepy, we rest. Pretty simple. We don’t HAVE to be anywhere on most days, so we just go with the flow.

Social Development: Socially, you are right where you should be. You first smiled the first day of your life. You first socially smiled between 4-5 weeks. Now you laugh, giggle, and play. You get upset when playing stops, well, unless you are SUPER tired and just fall to sleep. You are very aware when people are watching you, and you “perform” a bit. You recognize familiar faces, especially your Oma here in Germany and grandparents back in the US that you see on Skype. You also like getting your picture taken and have started posing for the camera. You love having boy time with your Papa. When the two of you are together, you are LOUD when you talk to him. You also know when people are coming and going, and you know when to expect them. When Papa leaves for work in the morning, you stare at the front door as if you are waiting for him to come back. When you hear his voice when he comes home in the evening, you turn your head looking for him. Very sweet. Whenever you are in anyone’s arms, you always look and find me in the room to make sure I am still there.

Cognitive Development: You are very smart, kleiner Mann!  Since the beginning, you have always been very alert when awake. VERY alert. You study everything. One of my favorite memories of you was when you were almost 3 weeks old, and you let us put you in the swing for a few minutes. We played the music on the swing, and you spent the entire duration trying to figure out how the music was being produced and where it was coming from. You watched the little speakers on the swing for so long with this inquisitive stare. Nothing else in the world mattered. JUST figuring out how this moving thing was making music! Speaking of music, you are able to find the beat of music and “dance” to it. I hope that you and I can celebrate and enjoy music together throughout our lives. After speaking with a child psychologist friend of Mom’s, a lot of your fussiness we have found is from not being stimulated enough. So, without hesitation, I stopped trying to get you to play with your newborn-3 month toys and just bought you a bunch of 6 month-one year toys. THIS has been a huge lifesaver for Mom!! You seem much more content when you have something to figure out. You hate rattles and anything just being done for you. You like being able to make things work and function yourself. You follow objects big and small all over the place. At night, Mom turns on the flashlight app on her phone, and we play shadow puppets. This is super fun for you. You are very responsive to books. You love looking at the pictures and hitting the books with your hand almost like you are pointing out what you are excited about. You have a baby faces book, and you LOVE looking at the different faces of different babies around the world. You smile at them and talk to them. You get the most excited when you see the little Asian girl and the little Irish girl. With all of your toys, we don’t have to show you how to do very much. You really like just figuring things out on your own and going with it.

Speech Development: Every day, you just talk more and more. And you get louder and louder! In the beginning, you opened your mouth when we talked to you almost like you were trying to talk back. You have always grunted and made high pitched sounds when you were upset or happy. There was this one sound that you made every time you were excited about something that was just the cutest noise I have ever heard. I wish I could describe it. It almost sounded like a high-pitched coil retracting. At about 9 weeks, you stopped making that sound which makes Mama so sad. Luckily, I have it on several videos and recordings to keep. Now, you are producing lower, guttural sounds and long vowels. You speak when we speak to you, and you take great pleasure in getting our attention for a conversation. You will be raised with both German and English in the home. Papa only speaks German to you. Your Oma comes over and plays with you in German. Your German family speaks German to you. Your Mama speaks English with you. Your American friends and family only speak English to you.  Interestingly enough, you can already tell the difference between German and English. When I speak German to your family members and in doing so, slip something to you in German, you ignore me and never respond in any way. When your Papa speaks English to Mama and happens to slip something in English to you, you tune him out and don’t respond. You only respond to us when we are speaking our designated languages to you. In other words, you KNOW when Mama is speaking English, and you KNOW when Papa is speaking German. When you respond to Papa in German or to Mama in English, you respond the same way with the same sounds. Differentiation between the two will come later in speech development, but cognitively, you are already understanding both languages. Very cool! Your father and I have bets placed on whether your first word will be German or English.

Physical Development: Sweet child, you are crazy strong. When you were first born, I heard the nurse say, “He has total neck control! That shouldn’t come for another couple of months!” And that was that. You were born with total neck control and head support. We supported your head just to be careful not to hurt you, but we never really worried about needing to support your neck. Also on the first night of your life outside of mom’s belly, you flipped yourself over. When the midwives were taking your measurements and weight, you surprised them by flipping yourself over from your back to your belly. I truly believe that because I had extra amniotic fluid giving you more space to stretch out, it somehow made you stronger since you could work out those fine muscles more and for longer than babies with less fluid to move freely in. When doing tummy time, you have always been able to lift yourself up with your arms and hold your head at 90 degrees. As long as we keep you entertained, you can stay like that happily for several minutes.  You kick your legs and have started propelling yourself forward. It’s not quite crawling but definitely close. Just the other day, your father and I sat in amazement as we watched you change your direction 90 degrees. Usually when you are on your tummy, you enjoy rolling yourself onto your back. We have to keep putting you back on your tummy to make sure you get enough practice time in. Fine motor skills are progressing. Your hands open and close, but you still like to keep them in tight fists, and you still lift yourself up on your tummy with closed hands. I think once your hands open up while on your tummy, you’ll start crawling since your legs are ready to go. In other fine motor skills, you are very good at grasping things and putting them in your mouth. You love this brand of toys called OBall. You love your OBall car and spinning its wheels to make the little colored balls inside the tires make noise. You mostly reach with your left hand, and you are far more developed in your left hand use than your right. It’s too early to tell what hand you will write with, but maybe you will be a leftie like your papa!

Appearance: You are such a doll baby! We are stopped all day every day and told how beautiful you are. In fact, people think you are so beautiful that they always check with me to make sure you are a boy! It must be those long eyelashes!  You have big eyes like both of your parents, and you seem to have the eyebrows from your mom. Though sometimes it seems like you have your Papa’s eyebrows too! You have large hands, and we believe they come from your Onkel Jan, Papa’s brother. You have a longer, thinner head like your Papa, but you have your mom’s mouth and full lips. Your eyes are slowly changing colors. They are still blue, but we can see a brown ring inside leading us to believe you will have big, brown eyes. We are waiting to see what shade of brown you have since your mom and dad have two very different shades of brown. Overall, people say you look like your Papa. Mom is totally fine with that. She married a handsome man! Callum, you really are a beautiful little baby, and I am not just saying that as your mom. You are very photogenic and always appear very angelic and soft like a porcelain doll, especially when you are staring at the camera. I love taking pictures of you. We’ve been told to get you into baby modeling. We’ll see. The joke is that God made you extra beautiful since you are extra difficult!!

Callum, you have enriched our lives in a way we never thought possible. I hope that in each smile we show you, each kiss we give you, and in each loving word we speak to you, that you can somehow feel how special and important you are to us. I carried you in my belly for 38 weeks loving you, protecting you, and growing you. Being able to hold you in my arms and call you my son was nothing short of a miracle. The first three months with you haven’t been easy. In fact they have been the hardest and most emotionally charged months of my life. The cool thing about the bond we share is that you and I are learning everything together. I’ve made mistakes, and I will continue to make mistakes. I am hardly a perfect person and even less so of a perfect mom, but I love being your mom. That’s all there is to it! I love watching you discover the world and completing so many firsts in your life. I will continue to watch you complete them with both an excited and saddened heart since you are growing so quickly. My baby boy you are, and my baby boy you will always be. Here’s to the next three months and beyond! I love you to the moon and back.

Love,

Your mother 

What My 1st Mother’s Day Means To Me

This time last year, I wanted nothing more than to be a mother. I could feel it with every part of my being. I had been told motherhood wouldn’t come easily for me. I accepted it and encouraged those around me to accept it as well, but the feelings never went away. My dear friend, Olivia, told me on Mother’s Day 2013, “Happy Mother’s Day.”

I replied,”But I’m not a mother.”

She said, “I have a feeling this will be your last Mother’s Day without a baby in your arms.”

Less than one month later, I took a positive pregnancy test. My son’s journey had already begun. Our journey had started. The very thing I thought impossible was suddenly happening.  I was a mother.

As difficult as I thought pregnancy was, nothing prepared me for the reality of being a first-time mom. Callum’s first breath of life completely took mine away. For me, that first time holding him was everything I ever imagined it would be. I knew I was a mother long before, but holding him sealed the deal. I watched his beautiful eyes stare into mine, and I am convinced he saw my soul in a way no one else before him ever has. I felt the tight grasp of his tiny hand, and I never wanted him to let go. I sang “Happy Birthday”  with the attending midwives to Callum. He’ll never remember those moments, and I’ll never be able to forget them. He captivated me, my son. He loved me, and as he and I just stared at one another finally meeting the person we’d both waited 38 weeks to meet, I finally felt what it means to become a mother. Or so I thought.

What I soon found out, is that motherhood is more than the euphoric moment that is only glamorized in the public. Motherhood is way more than simply the sleepless nights that seem to be the only thing people willingly talk about with newborns. People have no problems talking about the difficulties of their babies, but what very few openly discuss is the difficulties that lie within themselves in this new role coping with the difficulties of their new babies. I soon found out that motherhood was nothing like I prepared myself for. While I did win the jackpot in the super beautiful baby department, that cuteness was merely skin deep as Callum wailed and wailed for 10 hours straight. Yes, you read that right. It wasn’t just a sleepless night. It was multiple weeks with an upset baby refusing any help from his mother or father to settle down. I questioned myself as a mother. I questioned my instincts. I questioned the very choice Roman and I made on our US wedding day to willingly and openly accept any children into our marriage that the Lord decided to bless us with which made me even question my faith. None of the tips and tricks others suggested that did wonders for their babies seemed to work with mine. I cried with my son feeling the helplessness of not being able to help him, and I felt the loneliness of new motherhood that comes when you seem to the be the only one awake while the rest of the world is soundly sleeping.  In those first few weeks, there were multiple times when I just wanted to walk out of the door and leave. I just wanted to go away and be alone. I resented my son for what he had done to me, and I resented my husband since he didn’t feel the same pressure I did. There were (and still are) so many times when I just wanted to leave my baby in his crib to cry for hours and hours. I just wanted my breasts put back into my shirt and not exposed or nursed on. I wanted control of my body back. I wanted my time and independence back. I wanted my marriage back the way it was when there were only two of us as a family. I wanted my life back.

I remember feeling so alone in those feelings, too. Every other mother who opened her mouth about feeling the way I did was attacked. I was even attacked by friends who consistently threw in my face how beautiful new motherhood is when I asked for some guidance with what I was working through. And that’s the thing. Motherhood is the hardest job in the world, but all anyone else wants to see or hear is perfection. It isn’t until you dig deeper and peel back the layers of Facebook and social media appearance and competition that you find the truth that all women who have walked the path before seem to understand and agree upon. Motherhood is hard, and if you think it’s easy, then you aren’t a mother or you have clearly forgotten.

Letting Callum cry in his crib for hours was so tempting. Walking out and just leaving him was what I wanted in that moment. But something kept me from doing that every single time. Something pushed me to continue holding and rocking him just a bit more. Something told me to push through the tears when nursing was painful. Something told me to just keep going a little longer. Something told me not to give up on myself or my child. And what I realized through that, is that THAT is exactly what motherhood is- Simply loving my son enough to stay and fight and cry alongside with him.

Motherhood has been the single greatest challenge and disruption to the life I thought I had. It has also been the most beautiful challenge and disruption of my life. I can assure you no one cheered louder for Callum than me when he held his head upright 90 degrees while on his tummy for the first time. No one laughed harder than me when he rolled over for the first time. No one felt more proud than me when he grasped his toys with his hands and brought them to his mouth to check out. No one smiled bigger than me when that sweet baby boy after weeks of crying, finally broke a smile upon waking up to see me first thing in the morning. No one marvels at his development quite like I do.  You see, mothers definitely get the worst of it. We bear the brunt of the work and the responsibility. We are usually the ones doing the late-night feeds with our little ones. We are usually the ones changing the nastiest of diapers. We are the bringers of comfort and security. We are the ones who get the loudest and longest crying fits simply because our children trust us enough to show their most intense emotions they wouldn’t dare show anyone else. But with that responsibility, we also get the very best of our children. After all, they are an extension of our own hearts, whether the child grew underneath our own or came from the love in our hearts through adoption or marriage.

When I became a mom, I realized perhaps for the first time how much my own mother has done for me. I was thankful that life worked itself out in ways to allow her to have more time and flexibility to talk me through the tough moments that feel so isolating as a new mom. She counted contractions with me the night before Callum was born. She sat on Skype with me while Callum cried and cried and encouraged me. She reminded me I was a good mother even though I felt like the complete opposite. The birth of my son has definitely healed many aspects of my relationship with her as I took the position she once held herself as new mom. We had a new understanding of one another. I could relate to her for the first time as we shared struggles. I needed her wisdom, and I appreciated her experiences reassuring me that I wasn’t alone despite living in foreign country away from my family and friends. I saw my own mother in a light that I had not seen before. She’s always been my mom, but finally I saw her as a mother. Thank you, Mom, for just being there for me.

I also appreciated my mother-in-law even more than I thought imaginable. She’s here in Germany and on the grounds of the operation. She hugged me when I needed it. She held Callum in the midst of his crying without an ounce of frustration on her face. She came over and quickly whisked Callum out of my arms and into his stroller for a walk and fresh air just to give me some time alone. She ironed my clothes, cleaned my windows, and made me lunch just to make my life a bit easier. She, too, had a difficult first baby boy very early in her life, my husband. She shared stories of my husband as an infant, and she, too, reassured and physically comforted me in her arms knowing my family was so far away. As time passed, I felt less and less like her daughter-in-law, and now I feel like I am her daughter.

This Mother’s Day (May 11th) is also the same day as my son turning 3 months old. It’s incredibly symbolic that my first celebration as a mother also marks the day my son leaves his newborn phase. I was reminded of this while on a jog yesterday morning. It was raining, and I had every intention of just staying indoors. But I put on a rain jacket, tied up my shoe laces, and just ran. It was my first jog since before I gave birth. Three months of new motherhood have definitely taken their toll on my body and mental health, but the stress just washed off my body while the rain poured hard from above as I pushed my postpartum body to just keep going. The rain just washed away the negativity. It washed away the doubt and regret. And while it didn’t completely wash away the fear of the future, I at least know without a doubt that I am a fantastic mother to my son. I am a fantastic mother because I love my son. I am fantastic mother because I am honest about my feelings of new motherhood in a society that only wants positivity.  I am a fantastic mother because I live in a foreign country with a newborn baby away from my normal. I am a fantastic mother because after that jog, instead of simply walking away, I came back home to my son to start the day all over again knowing it would be tough and filled with never-ending crying from my infant son. I’m a fantastic mother because I have never given up on him, not even for a second. For as long as I live, I never will, and that is what I am celebrating this first year as a mother. Simply never giving up.

Callum is an American Citizen!

One of the most fascinating things about being an American expat is needing to visit the US Consulate in Frankfurt for various citizen services. It’s so strange. One minute you are in regular Frankfurt, Germany. The next minute you are in this little American world where people speak your dialect, understand you completely, and even know what fried pickles are! I’ve used the consulate’s services on three occasions since my move to Germany: paperwork for our German marriage license, renewing my US passport when my name changed after our weddings, and yesterday on April 9, 2014 for registering my son’s birth abroad and declaring his American citizenship.

When Callum was born, he was given a German birth certificate. Legally, he was only a German at birth. It was automatic, and it was really neat to have a baby with a different birth country than my own. I treasure the fact that Callum shared my body with me for 38 almost 39 weeks, but he shares his father’s birth country for life. My two German boys. 🙂 But of course, with me being an American and American blood running in his veins, Callum was entitled to full American citizenship which makes him a dual-citizen for life. The process up front seemed a bit complicated. Not only was it the standard handing over of my passport to verify my own citizenship, but I also had to prove that I lived in America for 5 years prior to the age of 14 and 5 years after the age of 14. Thanks to my father for driving around from school to school picking up school records verifying my enrollment and sending them to me, I was easily able to do this. Interestingly enough, the woman who processed our papers said that single mothers only have to prove one year for each. So unfair!

So after filling out the appropriate paperwork to register a birth abroad, applying for a social security card and obtaining Callum’s first passport, we made an appointment. Because Callum is under the age of 16, Roman as Callum’s father also needed to be present. Roman took the day off of work, and we drove to Frankfurt Tuesday evening so we didn’t have to rush for our 9:45 appointment Wednesday morning. I’ll admit, getting to go away for a night with my husband’s undivided attention with no school or work to report to the next morning was something I was really looking forward to.

When we arrived to the consulate for our appointment, I was nervous. It’s always a bit uncomfortable when you have so many papers and important documents with you. The biggest concern was naturally if we had everything, and the second was how well my almost 2-month old would behave in such an important building. I had nightmares of papers filled out incorrectly and horrible baby tantrums for weeks! We walked up to the building, which is more like a gated compound, waited all of 30 seconds in the American services line, and stepped right up to the window with our printed sheet explaining the nature of our visit. After receiving our waiting number, we went through security, the first time ever with Callum. It’s pretty much like standard airport security. We had Callum in his car seat, but we had to remove him from that and carry him in our arms. The security officers were oooing and ahhhing over my son. That always makes a mother’s day. 🙂 After security, we went up to the delegated window in the building and began the process. My always prepared German husband already had copies made of each piece of paper we submitted, so it really took very little time. Each time the woman said she needed a paper, I just handed it over, she checked it, and then it was on to the next. At one point the woman helping us casually said, “Well that all looks about right” very casually without double checking. Roman commented on how that would never pass with the Germans. Everything would be checked, re-checked, and checked a third, fourth, and fifth time just to make sure everything was 300%. Roman also commented on how friendly everyone was to us. Those are just a few of the stark contrasts between German and American ways of doing things.  I remember my earlier days in Germany when I understood very little German. When going through the immigration process, I remember asking Roman if the people processing my immigration papers were mad at us or if we did something wrong because they seemed very harsh and angry with us. He always said no, that everything was fine, and that they were happy with our preparedness. However the demeanor always made me think otherwise. As I said, sharing personal stories about this or that, small talk, smiles, and relaxed casualness just don’t happen when dealing with German bureaucracy.

After we submitted the papers, we waited about 10 minutes for all of the information to be put into their computer system. Upon finishing, we were called back up to the window, and at this time, Roman and I were asked to raise our right hands and take an oath that everything on the official documents were true and accurate to the best of our knowledge.  As we took that oath together, it reminded me of another kind of oath we took to one another almost 2 years ago. We made a vow to stick with each other through it all. Back then, Callum was just a dream in our hearts. We didn’t know him then, and he didn’t have a name, but he was ours. It was really amazing to be able to make this oath together, not just as husband and wife, but as Callum’s mother and father. The next step was to provide our signatures in various places, and then we were told that once that was done, Callum was legally an American citizen in every sense of the word. I was the first to sign the document, and my heart felt this giant pull. As I printed each letter, I just felt this growing sense of pride. It’s something that I believe is uniquely American and something I hope my own son feels someday about both places he will call home. In America, our citizenship is something we often take for granted. When children are born within America’s borders, we don’t really think about what that means to hand over that gift of American citizenship. Much like how Callum’s German citizenship was automatic and generally unnoticed, I could imagine the same attitude surrounding American citizenship for American-born babies. It’s a birth certificate. A legal document. Anything more? Maybe. Maybe not. With Callum needing his birth reported, a lot of those things that generally go unnoticed with the birth of a baby were very much so in the forefronts of our thoughts, especially mine.

How strange and yet how incredible it was to come back to this place with my husband and my son. Signing this document wasn’t just a paper to me. It was signing over the biggest and best parts of what made me who I am to my son so that someday he could have the same. I gave him the English language. I gave him American music and film. I gave him American food. I gave him white, sandy beaches and gorgeous mountain ranges. I gave him access to the American dream and the ability to pursue it. I gave him a connection to his American family. I gave him the power to make American decisions and the ability to take part in the shaping of America’s future. I gave him my home. I gave him my culture. I gave him life and another country in which he can choose to live it.

As an expat, it is so easy to let go of important parts of your culture. Even things like holidays can go unnoticed when it’s just a normal day in your host country. I love Independence Day, and yet the last time I saw fireworks on the 4th of July or had a family BBQ was back in 2010 right before my move to Germany. It just seemed silly to celebrate America’s independence with Germans especially when they don’t have time off of work or school. So considering the last time I myself stepped on American soil was back in 2012 and  organizing “American” things during my pregnancy was just entirely too much effort, I learned to just adapt and do things the German way. It was easier. Less commotion. Less expensive. Less work. So being in the consulate, something stirred inside of me that reminded me of who I am as an American. It was as if I were back home if only for an hour. It was enough to stir up the excitement that comes with American celebrations and culture, and it made me really undeniably happy to be able to share all of this with my son and any future children to come.

And so I cried. While my son peacefully slept in the safety of his baby carrier for the entire process, I wept tears of happiness. Because in a way, it felt like I was back home again. And even though we live in Germany, I get to share American pride with someone else in my home, with another American in our family, my son.  Like his citizenship, we’ll share it for life.

I also felt a sense of pride in myself. I was extremely proud of myself for coming full circle in life. Back when Roman and I discussed the idea of having kids long before we were even married, we both felt so excited that our children would be citizens of the world. They would have not one. but two countries to belong to. They would be bilingual. They would be German and they would be American, and not just through blood or heritage, but as legally recognized citizens in both countries. We were proud of that because that was something neither one of us had growing up. We’ve face loads of challenges in our relationship together. Whether it was my move to Germany and the legal ordeal that comes with being an expat in the first place to organizing not one but two weddings and the paperwork tied to that. And then we got pregnant, and the pregnancy was long and tough. And I was an American in Germany feeling the huge distance between here and home. And then I delivered our first baby in a foreign country with nurses, doctors, and midwives communicating to me in a language that was not my own from birth. Roman said repeatedly in the first few weeks postpartum how strong he really saw that I was for physically having the 5o hour labor that I had but also for going through everything in a foreign country. He said over and over after Callum’s birth that he had no idea how I was managing that. For the past almost four years of me living here, Roman and I have been through it together. So to stand next to him in the consulate with our son, swearing in and making oaths that fulfilled the dreams we had of our family from years ago, it just became this magical moment in my life and in our little family history that I will treasure forever.  Our perseverance, love, and commitment brought us to that consulate appointment, and the gift of being a German-American is Callum’s reward for life. What a blessed and lucky little boy he is.

After our oath and signatures, it was official! Callum was legally an American. We went to another window to drop off a form for his social security card and collect our passports. Minutes later, we left the consulate in great spirits. Roman and I discussed the ease of the process and how relieved we both were that this was handled. We got in the car and drove off while our newly-official German-American baby boy soundly slept in the car.

6 Weeks! What a Mess?

Callum is six weeks old (almost 7!!), and things are starting to feel a bit more settled than they felt before. I wouldn’t say it is so much that Callum has changed (I mean he definitely HAS), but I think I am changing too. I think the first shock of new motherhood is losing the “me time” you once took for granted. After all, you never knew anything other than simply doing things for yourself, how could you have expected the reality of it all? You think you know, but you really have no idea until it’s your turn. Then suddenly you are thrown into the fire with this tiny human who can’t use anything other than the loudest of screams to say what he wants. You can’t call it a day and hand him off to his mother. He’s YOURS to figure out. It is daunting especially when the one thing he wants is to be attached to YOU all.the.time

In the first few weeks, I felt so much pressure and frustration. I was frustrated with my baby for being a “difficult baby”—-those were midwives and doctors exact words, not mine! I was frustrated that my house never seemed to be in order. I like order, and this was simply chaos in all of the worst ways. And most of all, I was frustrated with myself for not being able to juggle it all in front of the many judgmental people who seem to think they have done or will do better than me with their own children. And while they may not say it directly to your face, you can feel the judgement burn through your skin.

Finally something happened, and it changed me. About a week ago, Roman and I put Callum in his baby bassinet in our room for the first time and left him there alone. Callum always slept in my arms in our bed, and I figured it was time to move on.  At first he liked the space. Two minutes later, he erupted into tears and screams that I swear the whole building could hear. I sat in the living room and waited for every 5-minute interval to pass at which then either Roman or I would go to him, speak softly, rub his belly, then leave the room until the next five minutes were up. Callum screamed and didn’t stop. Ever. Finally, I decided it was enough. This wasn’t happening tonight. I picked him up, and he looked at me with these eyes full of tears. He held onto to the neck of my shirt with every bit of strength he had left in him and didn’t let go. I put him in the bed with me like we do every night, and I just watched him. How quickly he calmed down. How content he was to be with me. Callum didn’t close his eyes for a few hours. He just sat watching me. It felt like he was too scared to get comfortable in fear that I would leave him alone once again.  I just sat and watched him while rubbing the tears from his eyes and kissing his sweet forehead. I promised him right then and there that we would do things differently from now on. I wasn’t going to push my expectations on my infant. I was just going to cherish this time of him genuinely needing me. Finally we both fell asleep, but this sleep was differemt. Instead of feeling like Callum was a nuisance in my bed, for the first time I felt like that was exactly where he belonged. We had the best sleep that night, and when we woke up the next morning, he smiled in delight that I was still next to him. We never put him back in his bassinet after that.

Watching my sweet baby boy that night made me see something the stress of new motherhood never let me see before. What I was doing and am still doing all day wasn’t just nothing. It wasn’t just abandoning the millions of chores around the house. I’ve been holding my baby for the last 6 weeks. I’ve been feeding him and keeping him clean. I’ve been interacting with him and bonding with him. I’ve been getting him adjusted to this great, big world he’s never known before. I’ve been teaching him my language and supporting my husband in the teaching of his. I’ve been Callum’s rock and helping him learn to trust his parents and the world he lives in in hopes to make him a well-rounded, well-adjusted kid. The biggest lesson I have had to learn isn’t how to juggle a million things in hopes of being the super mom and super wife so many strive to be.  My son being a “difficult” baby doesn’t allow for that right now. The biggest lesson I have learned is how to find happiness in simply being still. I’ve put up the computer, which granted, makes it a bit difficult to stay in touch with people or even keep up with a blog. I’ve put up the phone. Instead of finding things to do to entertain myself during nursing sessions, I focus on him. I talk to him, hold him a little closer, hug him a little tighter, talk to him a little softer, and imprint the way he feels in my arms to my brain. I imprint everything of this precious little boy because time only moves forward, and he isn’t getting any smaller.  I’ve had to accept a bit more help from my mother-in-law when she asks to come over and help clean. I’ve had to delegate a bit more to my husband instead of feeling badly for asking anything of him since he has so much on his plate already. I’ve accepted the mess, this beautiful, cluttered, chaotic mess of a sweet baby and his exhausted Mama and Papa, and I’ll enjoy being Callum’s mother instead.

I’m going to raise my son based on what he needs instead of raise him according to what he should be doing or what others tell me he should be doing. Maybe he should be in his own crib. Maybe he should be speaking a third language by the time he is 4.  Maybe he should be doing a lot of things. But really, who cares? I’m going to just trust my gut and do things as Roman and I see fit according to what we see Callum needs. He just isn’t ready to sleep alone right now. I’m not going to push it or enforce it. I’m just going to accept it. We’ll try again in a few weeks, and who knows, maybe he won’t cry his head off all night. Maybe he’ll be okay. It’s all one big question mark, and honestly, it’s completely okay.  He’s an infant. We’ll just take it one day at a time. One week at a time. After all, that’s the only way we got to 6 weeks anyways!