Coming Down to Earth
Category: Inspiration Corner
By: Stacy Heenan Biscardi
A creative piece about one of life’s best gifts, a baby and his entrance into this world. Thanks for sharing Stacy! Chic Mom loves brave women.
“I went skydiving,” I panted to my husband as he carefully navigated the icy roads toward the hospital.
“Keep reminding me,” I told him, doubled over in my seat from the waves of jarring contractions. “I jumped out of a plane at 13,500 feet, okay? I can do this!” “You can totally do this, just keep breathing,” he said, holding my hand, glancing nervously in my direction.
“I packed barf bags,” I half-smiled, opening the glove compartment to expose my stash of plastic bags. I unzipped the puffy black maternity parka that I was wearing, suddenly feeling warm even though I could see my breath in the chill of the car.
Mothers Becoming Women / In the Chair
Category: Inspiration CornerBy: Jennifer Sommersby Young
Lauren in her artist's studio
I’m sitting in the surprise sunshine that pours through the sliding glass doors of the kitchen of Lauren’s house, watching her paint Christmas scenes on a collection of river rocks. The sun is a gift—it was supposed to rain all day—and it feels nice. After you’ve lived above the 49th for a while, you get used to the “Hurry, the dark is coming!” mentality of native Canadians, an attitude that prompts residents to power wash, replace roofs, and cull flowerbeds of any hint of summer, all before the oppressive clouds and rain move in for a protracted stay. Lauren’s kitchen doubles as her studio; there is an L-shaped work table, paint of every imaginable shade, splatters on the floor tile from wayward squirts onto the palette, and products of her artistic output in various stages of completion. This one’s waiting for snow on the trees; that one is waiting for a final coat of varnish that will protect it from the elements should the lucky owner decide to place it in the garden.
Pounding Nails & Building Walls – One Woman’s Birthday Party
Category: Inspiration CornerThe quiet chatter coming from the basement of the St. Joseph’s Rectory, Maplewood, NJ comes to a halt as Co-Chair, Lynn Blasser, leads a small group of women in simple prayer -a prayer for guidance and strength.
Lynn is Co-Chair of Women Build of Newark, NJ, a program of Habitat for Humanity International, which promotes the involvement of women in the funding and construction of Habitat homes. The group empowers women as they address the issue of substandard housing. It is clear that this group of women possesses both the drive and skill needed to raise the walls for a family in need of affordable housing.
Are you the Perfect Mom?
Category: Inspiration Corner, health
As I sit here in front of a blank screen, I feel pressed to share a deep-seeded secret with all of you. As mothers we share an unspoken connection, which just doesn’t translate to anyone who hasn’t experienced giving birth to or adopting a child. I must share; I really was the “Perfect Mom” before I had kids;) Truly, that really has been my “mask” for quite some time. You know what I mean, running around, taking care of everyone else, looking perfect from the outside, concerned about my looks and what others were thinking…constantly feeling judged.
When Chic Mom Magazine asked me to share my story, I was honored and touched, and I also made myself a promise… to be truthful and open for all of you. So often as moms, we feel pressured to keep the barrier up between what we’re really feeling and the rest of the world – so we feel a little bit removed. We are scared of being judged, scared of being not good enough and sometimes most of all, scared of being found out! I have learned through the years that radical honesty can shift a situation and tear down walls on such a core level that the common thread of just being accepted becomes an afterthought as we relate to the human element of true emotion.
So…I am going to share a very deep and painful story that has allowed me to become the woman and mother I am today. And my prayer is that it will inspire you to make choices that honor you and give you the courage to make decisions that will help you to be the type of woman that you really deserve to be.
It was late in January 2002, and as I waddled through the kitchen for the 10th time, rearranging silverware and color-coded dishtowels, I remember thinking that this “nesting” phase wasn’t so bad after all. I had gotten more done in two hours then I had in the previous 9 months. As I finally took a seat on the soft leather couch by our front door, the labor pains began. A quick call to the doctor had me listening to a nurse assuring me to relax (after all I was a first time mom). They said to be patient, so I went into the bedroom to organize my lingerie drawer, and I remember thinking, “Will I EVER fit into this stuff again?”
February 4th arrived shortly after the pale yellow nursery had been set up, and the ironed onsies had been placed strategically in the top drawer. Cloth diapers were arranged in neat little stacks and copper pails were filled with necessities: wipes, binkies and the cutest little blue socks I had ever seen!!
On the drive to the hospital I was eerily calm, and I remember my husband Dave going to the drive through at Starbucks saying, “tall non-fat mocha.” I heard him say it as I looked out the window and thought, “my life will never be the same.”
I was right… Mason James was born the day before my 25th birthday! What a gorgeous creation, with full lips, and the sweetest hands…I can still remember the weight of his little body in my arms. 9.9 apgar score I heard the doctor say. “Happy Birthday Sweetheart”, my mom sobbed as a first time grandma. I immediately took Mason in my arms and began to try and breastfeed. He was my salvation – I was a mom now, and the world finally made sense! I no longer had to look for meaning in my life, and my career no longer mattered. I resonated with Mother Nature, and I felt WHOLE.
Shortly after Mason was born, he began having problems breathing. The doctors told me that I was overreacting; after all I was a first time mom! When I was finally taken seriously – it was too late, Mason had already developed a severe case of pneumonia. As I watched life flight carry him away through the window, I felt a surge of protection and utter helplessness. Released from the hospital, I spent every 2 hours with my breast pump instead of my baby…praying that the milk I was able to express would be a gift I could share with him from a distance.
I called the NICU almost every 30 minutes and they kept saying to me, “Don’t worry Mrs. Marino, Mason will be fine, he is the biggest child in the intensive unit, we just need to monitor him – really don’t worry.” I remember walking into the unit, scrubbing my hands for the 50th time that day, and entering a room filled with small cribs, heart rate monitors and bright lights. I would walk around and see the other babies in there – some only 2 lbs, and each time I would pray for them and their parents on my way to see Mason. I realize now that I had been preparing myself for what was to come, and as all mothers know, there’s no need to try and explain intuition.
On February 10th 2002, I held Mason in my arms as he took his last breath. I remember even then recognizing the irony of him taking his first and last breath with me. I walked out of the NICU doors and screamed at the top of my lungs, “HE IS GONE!” A nurse came out to tell me to keep quiet, telling me that they had other patients – if I had been at all present I would have decked her!
From that moment on I went numb. I walked out of the hospital holding my husband’s hand and we drove home to the empty pale yellow nursery with the neatly stacked cloth diapers.
The entire year after Mason’s death I existed solely in a space of anger, hatred and utter darkness. The question of WHY haunted my being as our best friends went on to have healthy babies. A bottle of wine and numerous Zanax tablets became the standard as I struggled to get out of bed. My overweight post-pregnant body was a second reminder that I was broken, that I had failed at my purpose. The deep scar of insufficiency screamed red, raised and loud every waking moment. I would spend countless hours on the living room floor glued to medical documents, records and endless amounts of red tape. In the beginning everyone was sending cards and leaving messages – within a few months it all stopped. No one knew what to say any more, they couldn’t understand why it was taking so long to heal. All I wanted to do was talk about Mason, and all they wanted to do was avoid it. I became withdrawn and I had trouble reaching out to anyone, including my husband.
February 4th 2003, it was a year after Mason’s death, I was surrounded by legal documents and the phone rang – it was my lawyer, “Tara, today is the last day to file a case, what have you decided to do?” A voice welled up in me that I had not heard before…”Stop asking WHY, and start asking HOW! I got off the phone and began, for the first time…to cry. I sobbed, I screamed, I journaled and then I went to Mason’s room and sung him the French song that I had sang to him during the entire pregnancy. A space inside of me suddenly opened up – I had decided to make my pain my passion. The new question, the HOW, changed my life. It was up to me to decide HOW I was going to let Mason’s death affect me. I chose to make myself whole, something that as a classic co-dependent, I had truly never considered before.
I began to take care of myself. I started exercising, wearing makeup, and dressing pretty again. I began to journal, talk to God, and do Yoga. I immersed myself in new books and began to coach other woman who had lost children. Then finally on August 12th 2003 – after 2 miscarriages I had a healthy baby boy, and before I knew it I was knee deep in diapers with a 2 year old and a 2 month old in my arms. It seems that the story would end there with a beautiful happy ending, and this is really the part where I’m challenged to be truthful.
I had wanted so badly to be a mom, it was all I ever dreamed of. I used to hate mothers whom I would overhear complaining in the grocery store, “Oh, I am so exhausted, I was up ALL night with little Johhny.” They would make my skin crawl! I used to think to myself, “You have no idea how lucky you are”. But things started to change for me… I spent day-in and day-out being the best mother I could be. I was up with all night feedings, making my husband dinner, taking the boys to mommy and me classes. I rarely ever took a shower anymore, and if I did, there was a bouncie chair in front of me and a two year old on my hip. I started to HATE being a mom. I can’t believe I’m saying this to all of you. I would spend nights locked in the bathroom just for an ounce of privacy. My husband would come home from work 10 minutes late and I would feel like he didn’t love me. I felt so GUILTY! All I ever wanted was to be was a mom. I thought motherhood was going to be the answer to ALL my problems, all my insufficiencies, all my dreams. What was wrong with me?
I held all my feelings in and Dave and I started to drift apart. My life was filled with baby bottles, diapers, car seats and play dates. I wasn’t taking care of myself, I didn’t fit into any of my old clothes, my hair hadn’t been done in months, and the only conversations I was having were about poop, pee and breast milk. I didn’t know who I was anymore, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.__This went on until one day when I sat down and asked a new question. Again the HOW. HOW do I want to handle being a mom? What parts of me are missing? HOW can I find them?
I started to be aware of the things that made me feel good, and the things that made me feel like me again. I started to sit on the floor and design lingerie – it felt amazing! I began to set boundaries and I stopped putting everyone else before myself. I began to take care of myself and wear makeup again. The word NO became a part of my vocabulary as I started to pick and choose the things that made me feel good. The victim role began to disappear as owning who I was and what I wanted as a woman began to take form. The dynamics of the entire house changed as I began to take control of the different aspects of myself that were longing to be heard. I identified three equally important aspects of myself as a woman that needed attention: The Frenchie (the sexy side) , The New Yorker (business side) and The Indie (the spiritual side). These pieces of me needed to be nurtured each and every day.- The world changed for me, and so did my relationship with my husband, my kids – and most importantly myself._ It is my strong belief that all women have these three aspects to themselves that need to be honored and nurtured.
I urge all of you to slow down and take inventory of where you are right now. Are you taking care of yourself? No, I mean REALLY taking care of you? Are you honoring every aspect of your Frenchie, your New Yorker and your Indie? Allowing yourself to really be a woman is a tricky thing… I know my inner voice sometimes still likes to say, “Tara, you’re being selfish.” But can I share something with you that I have come to believe? Your kids are not going to treat themselves the way you treat them, they will treat themselves the way you treat yourself!
You have a responsibility to take care of yourself. It’s not a luxury! As moms we are overwhelmed with making dinners, packing lunches, driving kids around, dealing with finances, running our own businesses finding our husbands’ shoes (when they are right in front of him), and trying to be beautiful and perfect while we’re at it – praying that no one finds out that we’re drowning in a sea of loneliness and masked perfection.
Please, if you hear nothing else, hear this…from a mother who knows the pain of loss, from a mother who has struggled with the overwhelming feelings of being a mom – you will NOT be happy until you take care of yourself! The Frenchie, The NewYorker and The Indie are vital parts of your being – they cannot be ignored.
Take time to indulge in a bit of foreplay with yourself, reconnect with the real you, and ask her what she needs. What kind of flowers do you love? When was the last time you had your favorite meal and didn’t eat leftovers off your kids’ plates? When was it?
Be kind to yourself, fall in love with yourself – believe me, your kids and your husband will thank you, and you’ll finally start enjoying the precious role of Motherhood.
I look forward to hearing from you, and would love to hear your own stories and challenges as a mom. You can email me at Tara@ElegantFemme.com
I feel strongly that an honest community for moms is the best type of support there is! You’ve found it here at Chic Mom Mag!
With love and beauty always,
Tara
To learn more about the Frenchie, the NewYorker and the Indie as well as Tara’s business, go to www.elegntfemme.com. To hear an interview Tara did with Rose Cole, go to http://elegantfemme.com/AnnouncementRetrieve.aspx?ID=24968.
