I remember my very first car-ride as a new mom - we were on our way home from the hospital, and it was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.  For the first time, my baby was not only outside of me, but we were leaving the confines of a well-protected area and venturing out into the “big world” with cars and reckless drivers and such.

That was the longest 50-minute ride home I have ever had.

As I held her hand, my over-active imagination saw each and every possible calamity that could happen from our starting point to our home.  I’m not sure how I maintained by consciousness during that ride home because I’m pretty sure I held my breath almost the entire way.

I smile as I remember back to holding her little body in my arms.  I remember how she was tiny and we were scared to hold her at first, scared we’d break her - my brother and dad took a while to warm up to holding her while not sitting down, even.  And, then I look back at motherhood in general during those days, and forward…and I can see the changes.  For me, being a new mother has been much like a dance, where I’m continuously learning the next steps and becoming more confident with my abilities as a mom.

During Lorelei’s first few months of life, I was terrified to just leave her.  It took weeks before I would leave her for a few hours, and then even more time before I finally left her for an entire night.  I actually remember that night.  My parents wanted to keep her for the night, and I wanted them to - yet, the fear of WHAT IFs just wouldn’t leave my head.  WHAT IF SHE NEEDED ME?  WHAT IF SHE DIED FROM SIDS OR SOMETHING AND I WASN’T THERE?  WHAT IF?  WHAT IF?  After about 30 minutes of rehashing “the plan” for almost any conceivable emergency, I walked out of their door with tears running down my cheeks.  “You don’t have to do this, and you don’t have to do it tonight, you know,” my mother said.  “I know,” I replied, “but, I have to do it sometime.”

The second time was not quite as hard and the third got even easier.  After that, I missed her before I even left but things were much easier and I was finally able to enjoy the free couple time that came with your child being watched by someone else you trusted dearly.

But, the dance went on and I began to grow in other ways as I came face to face with situations that I wasn’t entirely sure how to handle.

As a child, I had HORRID allergic reactions - and, while most of my reactions were environmental rather than food (with a few exceptions), I knew that if Lorelei were to get my allergies, it was possible that they could show up in any form and with even worse consequences.  So, for the first 18 months of her life, she was carefully introduced to new foods and I was set against offering her candy, soda, or any other junk food just yet.  This was something that not everyone agreed fully with me on.  I’m still not entirely sure those who disagreed fully understood my reasoning, but their actions against my wishes infuriated me.  I felt that she was too young for junk food, and since we hadn’t introduced it yet, she didn’t want it.  Of course, she’d take it…but she wasn’t asking FOR IT, specifically.  She still preferred healthier things - like juice and fruits.  Furthermore, I couldn’t see the reasoning behind giving my child foods that were simply not good for her and could only further damage the resistance her immune system had built up, making her more prone to allergies.  As a new mother, I made it clear where I stood on the issue, and with every too-early offering of a finger dipped in peanut butter or a spoonful of chocolate ice cream or a swig of soda while they thought I couldn’t see, I became angrier and felt more and more like my own ideas about parenting MY CHILD were not only not being taken seriously, but were also being all-together ignored.

There was also the season of parenting where I was extremely picky with whom Lorelei was allowed to spend the night with.  To be frank, I took parenting seriously and my mind reeled at the notion that children were mostly indestructible.  I realize that sometimes children live in spite of their parents, but those weren’t necessarily the people I wanted in charge of my child’s health and well-being - especially while she was at the fragile age of having to depend on everyone to decode every cry and whimper for her.  In particular, I remember a suggestion to let my infant daughter sleep on pillows on a chair and I remember my breath sucking up through my chest.  I’d read the baby books and SIDS terrified me.  I countered the suggestion with what I’d read, only to be laughed at told that they’re children turned out just fine.  But, that wasn’t good enough for me.  It wasn’t a chance I was willing to take with the miracle that I’d fought so hard for, the life that had been entrusted to me.

Then, there was the season of parenting  where I cared so much about everyone thought.  I sifted through views and ideas about things from toxins in our environment to vaccination to organics, and I had to choose where I would stand with each.  At first, each time I was met with a conflicting view or a disapproving glance, I’d run back to the information, just to read it again.  Each time, I’d feel like the most awful parent for choosing something that was perhaps not “main-stream” thought and practice.

There were other seasons too…seasons of feeling like I wasn’t good enough, seasons of feeling like certain people didn’t have time for us in their busy lives, seasons of learning to dance my dance around other people’s dances, seasons of good, and seasons of bad…all seasons of learning.

Soon, we’ll be the blessed parents to yet another beautiful daughter, and while I know this time will be different, I believe it will be much the same.  My dance has evolved, but it is still much like the one I began with, only more refined and a little less clumsy.

This time, I won’t have to close my eyes with dread on the way home, fearing the worst.  This time, I’ll be able to let my little one spend the night with her grandparents and walk out the door without having to focus on moving forward just to keep from running back to her.  But, this time… I still won’t let her have soda and I still won’t let her have foods before I believe she’s ready.  Her intake on junk food and chocolates and possible allergens will be limited, just the same.  This time, I’ll stand strong in my beliefs and demand respect for MY parenting skills, too.  I don’t disrespect other’s beliefs, nor do I try to change them, but when it comes to MY child I want my ideas and wishes to be respected.  This time, I’ll still be a little leery letting her spend the night out and will probably need to go over “just in case plans,” but I’ll be able to do it.

And, this time?  I’ll realize that no matter how involved I want people to be in our lives -or how I think they should be, it’s ultimately their choice.  This time I’ll try to remember that not everyone will want or be committed to having a close relationship with my daughters, and that not everyone will bond with them the way I think is best…but, it’s their way.  And, as long as I’m being respected and my daughters are safe, I’ll let go a little more.

Because the dance will be fabulous one day, I’m getting better and better each and every day…

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