Baby Product Poll: Swaddles

via Aden + Anais

So, as Jonathan and I get closer to welcoming Wee Baby Hyatt into the mix, I'd like to gather some opinions from my parent and frequent babysitter friends regarding products that worked particularly well for them with their newborns/infants -- especially if you have perspective on multiple children and how they differed.

The consensus I've gathered from various resources, and a few friends, is that sometimes we have to go through a few products to find what works best, since every baby is different. And what works for your first baby may not work for your second. This is all fine, of course, logically, but since we are in a small apartment on a tight budget, we are hoping to keep things as minimal as two recovering maximalists can manage when it comes to baby gear. Not get 10 products when one or two will do, you know?

This leads me to my first topic: SWADDLES.

I already know I will be registering for a few cotton muslin swaddling blankets (since they are multi-use, for everything from breastfeeding covers, tummy time blankets, burb cloths, etc., and take up very little space), but I am also considering a Miracle Blanket swaddle to try after doing a bunch of research. Seemed to be the best bet if we are aiming to pick just one, but still... Maybe there's something better? Maybe I should ignore my desire for minimalism, suck it up, and get a few things? Maybe swaddling is over-rated and I am silly and overthinking this?

Less than 8 weeks to go and I am grasping for my sanity and comfort in my choices.

So, parents: what are your thoughts?

At the end of the day, my overall goal is to avoid getting one of *every* type of swaddle or sleep sack or what-have-you. I want to keep it simple. I'd like to make a wise decision straight out of the gate that doesn't have me wasting money trying to rectify my mistakes. Your input may be just what I need to feel even a wee bit more confident.

Thanks, friends!

UPDATE:

Since this post was all about asking for advice, I wanted to share some suggestions and thoughts I got from friends who commented on my Facebook page about this particular post. I think it may be valuable to anyone curious about swaddling and buying swaddles, because it got me thinking about some products I hadn't considered and ones I clearly didn't give enough thought to. (Newly-mentioned products linked below!)

"I 100% swear by the Miracle Blankets and have used them for all three kids. When my first son was born, almost 12 years ago, they were hard to find and not well known but saved us from hours of crying. I still even have the original one as I fear someday they will stop making them and someone will need one!" -- Jennie C.

"I haven't met a baby yet who didn't like the HALO Sleepsack. It has a swaddle version that converts to arms free, and you don't have to wrestle them on. The zipper is at the bottom, which is nice when they inevitably poop right after you have just finished the bedtime routine." -- Katie M.

"We used the SwaddleMe Velcro ones and loved them! Baby will wiggle out of a blanket swaddle pretty easily once they start moving more." -- Cristina M.

"We loved the lightweight aiden + anais blankets. Our son has always been a hot sleeper, so the light fabric was great. Second the HALO mentioned above, but he wore those when he was a few months old and wanted free arms. When he was super newborn, he had to have the arms in. He also really liked the Woombie, which is basically a sack with a zipper on the front: Comfort & Harmony Woombie Perfect Peanut Swaddle - All In A Row. I was never smart (awake) enough to deal with the Velcro ones. They always seemed so unnecessarily complicated." -- Shane S.

"We used all of the above suggestions at one stage or another. The Miracle sleeper never totally worked for us, but every baby is different and I know a few people who have sworn by it. The HALO Sleepsack is great for when they get a little bigger and start breaking their arms out of the blanket swaddles. But for the very, very beginning, the aiden + anais really did the trick for us. Easy to use and comfortable for the babe and also great as nursing covers/stroller covers in the sun because they are so breathable. We found that the blanket swaddles were the most comforting to our daughter in the beginning, because we could get them nice and tight, and she had a strong startle reflex and would startle herself awake if her arms weren't locked down." -- Sam P.

"Our son hated swaddling. He would somehow shimmy his arms out every time we tried. After a month of trying we gave up. He was all about his arm and leg freedom! So my parent advice is to get a few different kinds but not to open them all, as you might need to return them if baby girl doesn't like them!" -- Christine W.

"We loved the HALO sleepsacks. Great for a summer baby. My husband was great at swaddling with the aiden + anais blankets, but I never got the hang. The sleepsacks also don't constrict baby's hips, which was reassuring for us since our son slept in a sack for about 3 months." -- Katy L.

"We used the Woombie and the HALO sleepsacks. Our son used it until he rolled over at about 6 months and then we used the transition one that lets you free one or both of their arms but they still get the closeness of the swaddle on their chest. We thought he hated swaddling at first but after about 3 weeks, we swore by it! Use it for naps too!" -- Meghan G.

"Our son is apparently one of the many babies who is the reincarnation of Harry Houdini and can escape any swaddle that isn't firmly locked in place. He sleeps MUCH better/longer when swaddled, but he hates the initial act of being swaddled and tries to break his arms free... Once he settles down, though, the swaddle is a lifesaver! We've tried pretty much everything now I think -- SwaddlePods, Woombie, Velcro Swaddles, Miracle Blanket, and good old fashioned muslin swaddling... Our absolute favorite style with him has been the pods/Woombie -- they're super easy to use, you basically just bag your baby up till you've got a glo-worm instead -- and they're inescapable. They're also great when a middle of the night diaper change is necessary since they have dual directional zippers and you don't have to undo the critical arm swaddle portion. That said, the Woombie is way better than the less expensive pods; it doesn't stretch out and has a more snug hold throughout. We use the cheaper pods too (they're fine, but they stretch a lot and sometimes he even gets his hand out the neck!), and some Velcro hand me down ones, because he spits up enough that we have to wash whatever we're using after every use... but if I could have a whole bunch of Woombies, that would be my pick!" -- Katie H.

Thoughts On Baby Naming

Nicole Gonzalez and baby Lillie Sol, via her blog Lillies & León | photograph by Mary Grace

This week marks the start of my 3rd trimester of pregnancy. 28 weeks. I can't believe it's come this fast. Despite being more than ready to meet this little girl and embrace the challenges of new motherhood, I am still woefully unprepared to bring her home and step away from my job for 3+ months. Still so much to buy and prep and do!

Preparing for baby in all the big and little ways that one prepares for such things has been both fun and stressful. Jonathan is hyper-involved in everything, but most of the research on baby gear and essentials has fallen to me—mostly because I've embraced it like it's a full time job. But one area where we've both been particularly attentive is to the issue of baby names.

I don't know how most couples approach this kind of thing in the early stages of their relationship, but Jonathan and I—once we were each aware of the other's interest in having kids someday—talked openly about baby name preferences before nearly anything else, including marriage. It was probably because talking about baby names is one of my favorite topics of conversation period, full stop, and I forced him to talk to me about it. Six years ago, it was very important that he know how I felt about his preferred boy's name, Doc ("Hell no."), and it was necessary that I knew his feelings about my favorite girl's name at the time, Laila ("Not feeling it...").

He was such a good sport.

And so it went, the "What about...?" discussion happening a hundred times over the years, thus we were able to narrow down our top choices to a short list of possibilities that sat in stasis for upwards of three years. When we found out we were having a baby—and especially when we found out it was a girl—Jonathan's baby naming seriousness kicked into high gear. Something about the reality of picking a name for a real live person to have for their entire life makes you look at all your name choices differently. At least, it did for us.

A big discussion of late has been whether (and how) to honor family members in the naming of our baby. So many individual names and name combos we love, and that made our list, have little or nothing to do with family legacy. We liked the idea of family names, but neither of us thought it really mattered all that much when we were just ruminating over ideas. Now though... with an actual baby brewing... we are weighing all the pros and cons.

There are lots of pros and cons, it turns out.

So at 28 weeks, we're honing in on a much shorter short list of names, with one that's peaking out as the favorite. It's mind-boggling to have thought so much about baby names for so many years (long before Jonathan was even a blip on my romantic radar), and now... we get to name one. A girl who will hopefully live a long life with that name, carrying it into adulthood, hearing it through the voices of friends and lovers, putting it on job resumes!

The weight of such a life long decision is not lost on us. We're so honored to get the opportunity to name a human being—bestowing upon her the first little piece of her identity.

We've made the decision not to announce or discuss the baby's name until she's born, primarily because I would like to reserve the right to change my mind after seeing her little face! It's tough though, since I love talking about them so much...

SO TELL ME: If you've got some favorite baby names, or your children are already named and you love talking about the why and how you came up with that name, let me know in the comments. Are there names you used to love, but your partner nixed them? What about names you are sad you couldn't use because you are done having children? I would absolutely love to read all about it!

Baby names. I seriously can't get enough.

25 Weeks, 3 Days

We’re just shy of 11 months since I updated last, and I’ve been fairly comfortable with this. Another long, sustained break from writing, which has made me somewhat sad but also grateful that my life has been filled with other things, good and not so good, to whittle away the hours of my days.

I currently have six mostly-written posts pending about Jonathan’s and my wedding, which occurred nearly two years ago, and I have debated whether to ever bother finishing them. For myself, I would love to have the memories extensively documented -- the way only I can ramble on about details that no one but me really care about -- but there is also this tugging forward that makes me eager to look ahead and not back. Maybe just one post of my favorite photos from the day will do, and we can leave it at that. Perhaps inspiration will strike and I’ll finally pull out the hard drive that houses these memories and get the photographs added to the posts (basically the only thing keeping me from clicking "publish" on several of them.) We’ll see; I feel no pressure to do one or the other at this moment.

I did, however, feel inspired to stop by and talk a little about the newest development in our ever-changing lives...

I’m pregnant, finally, after 12 long months of trying. Currently 25 weeks and 3 days, due September 12th. At 20 weeks, we found out baby is a girl (!!!)—though, if I’m being honest, given the intensity of my food cravings, she may also be part burrito.

20-week burrito baby

Back in January and February, in the throes of incomprehensible fatigue and awful (but relatively minor) bouts of nausea, September felt so far away. 9 months. 8 months. That’s such a long time; countless hours left to plan, read, study, prepare, every little thing that feels important prior to welcoming a tiny human being into your home for forever. No reason to rush or stress. Plenty of time. Now though? I’m on the cusp of the 3rd trimester, baby spends inconvenient hours movin’ and groovin’ all over my bladder and colon, Jonathan has taken to speaking with her about his day, playing Nirvana and jazz so she comes out knowing what’s what. This weekend, we are preparing to move nearly all of our furniture around and purge more junk to make way for baby essentials. Summer will come and go. By September 26th (at the latest), Baby Hyatt will be here, coming home to our little one-bedroom apartment and menagerie of fur-balls. It feels as though she could be here any moment.

We’re thrilled/nervous/anxious/every emotion at once. I would be lying if I didn't admit that the enormity of this impending change has also, sometimes, left me feeling sad, cocooned in uncertainty; that sneaky yet all-too-familiar "What have we done?" sub-thought that appears spontaneously, only to upend my joy. The gravity is not lost on me, the reality of a new human of which we will be entirely responsible. One I will love more than I thought possible. I truly am full of all the feelings and I am doing my damnedest to embrace and own every bit of it.

So that's it. First time parents with zero minutes of infant care experience and exactly one diaper change between us. We have no idea what we’re doing but we are so, so, so excited/scared/etc. to learn.

Peter Dean's Birth [One Year Ago Today]

It was one year ago exactly, but the experience of seeing my best friend give birth is still quite vivid. Very vivid, in amazing and spectacular ways, coupled with somewhat horrifying ways. Overloaded senses, which was highly unexpected. Childbirth is serious business.

I planned on writing about it right after it happened in mid-July last year, but the whole event occurred in the middle of a blogging slump, and then it all felt overwhelming, because it's about my best friend and a major first in my own life, and I feared (even as I'm writing this, I fear) that I just wouldn't/won't do it justice. Or it would just sound hyperbolic and typically "Johnstone" in its long-windedness. The more intense my emotions are about something, I've found, it's become harder and harder to write about it. This is something I want to change; I don't want to lose the ability to immortalize my most vital experiences into words, as the reality of starting a family draws ever-nearer... as my life prepares to turn some major corners into uncharted Life Territory. I don't want to forget, and I know that no matter how vivid a memory is, time and distance is not on my side.

So. This is a story about the birth of a baby named Peter.

But first, let's back up a bit.

Cassie had asked me when she was around three months pregnant if I could be present for the birth. I was so incredibly honored to be asked. She knew that Jonathan and I plan to have kids sometime in the not-too-distant future (hopefully), and -- aside from the fact that she wanted me to be there, because, hello, BFFs -- it would be such a valuable learning experience. Here's your front row ticket to "Baby Coming Out of a Vagina": Watch and Learn: One Night Only! 

Even better: Cassie asked Kim to be there too, which meant I'd have some sisterly company!

Leading up to that July, I knew the first half of the month would be dedicated to this baby please come out now waiting-game, since everyone was hoping that the little man (then unnamed) would be coming into this world of his own accord with absolutely no help from any drugs or machines or nurses.

He was due on July 9, so I planned on being in the Bay Area for the 4th of July and would stay through his birth. Easy. Except this is childbirth and, silly me, little baby-inside-belly had plans of his own -- like making his poor mother wait another eight days with a bump the size of a summer watermelon. Tiny torso = outward growing baby. Science, as they say.

Luckily, being able to work from home (or in this case: Cassie's dining room table) made it so that I could feasibly wait for the baby to come, though I was in a constant state of panic for two full weeks, every time I made plans with my family to go somewhere or do something, that I would get a call that IT'S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW and I would rush over, but miss it.

When it came down to it, despite our efforts of eating spicy food and taking all the walks and doing other things that are said to induce labor (MORE SCIENCE, only not), Cassie wound up in the hospital to induce labor anyway.

It... well... Guys, it was time.

When we finally got into the hospital room at Kaiser, this was actually the second day we'd tried to get in so Cassie could be induced. The day before, the rooms were all full, so we were turned away. Kim, who had had to return to work down in Los Angeles after the baby refused to be punctual, came back and we were all able to spend the night together in preparation for the little man to arrive.

The most notable thing about our time in the delivery room was the waiting. I know, I know -- Captain Obvious -- but really. If you're not the one giving birth, then you're just sitting there. And if you're not the husband (or designated "Support Me" person) of the woman giving birth, then you don't have much to do. Other than wait. And in Cassie's case, be very, very quiet every time a contraction came along, because she will cut you.

Or, if you're me, you take pictures of things. That was my One Job, after all. Document the event. So I did.




I know, man. Hospital rooms. Super riveting. And damn it if you don't need a sign to remind you where the step stool goes.

For quite a while, all we could do is keep Cassie company, and then pretend we weren't there whenever a contraction hit. She walked, she leaned, she groaned, she chatted, she visited the restroom, the nurse came in with a hook-y thing (technical term) to help break Cassie's water. It was all very low-key.

Then the contractions started getting a lot worse. On top of that, her nurse informed her, she wasn't dilating at the rate they wanted. This news was obviously not ideal, particularly with the level of pain she was experiencing. 

She decided to get an epidural so she could finally relax, and -- hopefully -- dilate faster. Spoiler alert: The epidural was a very good idea.

By this time, it was late, maybe around 10:30 PM or so, though the exact time isn't clear to me. All time ceased to make sense after a while. My sister and I had to leave the room while the anesthesiologist came to do the epidural, so it was a good time to have my dad come over with fresh clothes/underwear (I'd been in the same clothes for more than 2 days) and bring a snack for us and Matt.

When we returned, Cassie was hooked up, if you know what I mean.

She wasn't thrilled with me sharing this pic, since it involves a fancy pee bag, but THIS IS LABOR PEOPLE. The body does things. On top of that, I couldn't believe how many things were attached to her. It was somewhat mind-boggling to me. However, on the flip-side, she was a new person with the epidural: totally serene, fairly comfortable, and basically high.

So she napped, if you can call it napping when you have to constantly adjust due to pressure you can only kind of feel. We ate our burgers.

We waited.

After an hour or two or ten (TIME? WHAT IS TIME?), Cassie's groaning got seriously intense. Matt went to sit with her and hold her hand, while Kim and I sat there totally useless. She insisted the pressure was getting crazy, and rang for the nurse. When the nurse arrived, Cassie informed her of what she was feeling, and the nurse checked her dilation progress. I can't remember exactly what it was, but it was almost 10 cm, maybe 8 cm on the verge of 9. The epidural had sped the process along insanely fast. The nurse got the midwife, who admittedly does not become my favorite person in the half hour to follow.

As a bystander, watching all this go from a very quiet room to a chaotic circus in the blink of an eye was strange. The midwife was in absolutely no rush, which contrasted heavily with Cassie's insistence that the pressure was WHOA, like really.

The midwife and team of nurses were slow to assemble. Some other woman had the audacity to also be giving birth right then. The midwife said she could see the baby's head way up there, and they could expect things to progress soon. Cassie, on the other hand, was basically like "NO BITCH. THIS IS HAPPENING, RIGHT NOW."

But the midwife didn't seem all that quick to action. She began the process of putting on a basically a hazmat suit and setting up the birthing area with various "essentials" at the rate of a damn snail. Nurses were trickling in, also seeming to take their sweet ass time. I think I would have done a lot more swearing if I were Cassie, so her patience in the face of something so painful and, um, urgent absolutely astonishes me.

Oh, while we're here, fun fact: Redheads need more anesthesia and pain killers than other people do. Did you know that? Yeah, that fact came into play when Cassie admitted that -- unlike when the contractions were happening, she could feel EV. ER. Y. THING. from the cervix, down.

Yeah. So, moving on...

At this point, the pressure and pain was overwhelming, and Cassie began insisting that she had to push. Like, now, not later.

The midwife then said something seemingly innocuous yet totally infuriating, I wanted to literally shake her:

"No, wait."

Wait? Like, "Wait, I'm not ready with my SPACE SUIT and CATCHER'S MIT"?? My girl was ready, and this midwife made me want to scream. But Cassie tried to do what the midwife said, screaming and panting and near-tears all the while. The baby was coming, and fast. Of course, the whole time, she could feel every little thing.

(Side note: Obviously there is nothing wrong with natural childbirth, and of course it can be way less traumatic than I'm making it seem here. I only mention the pain and horror because girl is not mentally or physically prepare for it since she got the epidural, so it was a not pleasant surprise for her -- and us.)

I'm next to the bed with Matt's camera in hand, snapping pictures of the whole thing (NSFW or public consumption at any time, so not included here). Kim has positioned herself near the right leg, ready to assist, and Matt is up near Cassie's head, holding her hand through the pain.

FINALLY, the midwife tells Cassie to push, all in time with her contractions. The baby's head is right there, and she is so close. It was incredibly exciting and emotional to see that little crown, but at the same time, I was upset by the unexpected reality of having to watch my best friend deal with that level of pain.

At one point, while the baby's head was almost there, she screamed "I AM RIPPING IN HALF!" and all Kim and I could do is say as sternly as possible, "You're not. We can see you. We can see everything. You're OK. You're not ripping. You're so so close." Even though that was all very true, what I really wanted to say was, "HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS?!?!" but I didn't think that would comfort her.

Everything was a rush and blur as I snapped pictures, the midwife instructed, Kim held that right leg as though her life depended on it, and Cassie became my absolute hero.

The baby's head was out. We could see his squishy face.

Nearly there.

Another push, two pushes, and the shoulders came through... At 1:17 a.m. on July 18, 2013, Peter Dean Rosenbrock wiggled into this world and quickly found himself in the arms of a pretty awesome mom. Oh, and his dad is pretty amazing too.





These pictures were taken immediately after he was born and placed on Cassie's chest. It was such an amazing moment and such an honor to have been able to capture it, let alone share it with them.

Sure it was emotional for them, but this is also about me, and I was an emotional W. R. E. C. K. underneath my calm/quiet exterior. But I was taking photos, as many as possible, so I choked back the feels and focused on my amateurish photography skills to get the clearest pictures I could.



After a few minutes of holding the baby, the nurses scooped him up (they asked first) and began to take vitals and measurements, etc. That was all fine, but soon I started to think, "God this is taking long," and noticed that -- AGAIN -- these nurses were taking their sweet ass time. Peter was crying and Cassie was getting more and more anxious to hold him, do skin-to-skin, and start breast feeding. I can't be sure exactly how long it took, but it was kind of ridiculous. Cassie was getting emotional, particularly in the moments when the nurses would walk away and Peter was left lying by himself.

I about bitch-slapped some nurses, I'll be honest. This was the first time I spoke up, only after Cassie had asked way-too politely if they could please bring him back, I sternly said, "He needs to come back over here now. Like, immediately." I'm pretty sure I was channeling my mother at that moment, though she would have been notably less kind about it.

They still took their time with it, but soon, he was back with his parents and they fell into a blissful quiet while he began feeding. It was late and Kim and I were both exhausted, so we said our goodbyes and gave our kisses before stepping out so other visitors could come inside the room.

And then it was over. Just like that. We were zombies driving home, and it all kind of felt like a dream. The labor had lasted many hours, but the pushing and actual delivery went by in a flash.

It was one of the greatest honors of my life to be given this opportunity. I learned a lot, and dammit do I love my friends so much.

This guy is pretty great too.

Happy 1st birthday, Peter Dean! This world is a crazy place, but your baby blues and ginger hairs make it a whole lot brighter!


** Final portrait courtesy of Cassie Rosenbrock
** All other photos used with permission by the Rosenbrocks

When a Baby Meets the Sea

I'm in love with a baby. Really. He's not even mine, but I love him so much I could just smoosh his face all day forever. It's like when I see how cute my dogs and cat are -- but friends, he is not a dog or cat, he is a baby. A human baby with human tendencies and a brain that learns things and a mouth that says words in English and two legs that work [almost] just like mine do to get from one place to another.

I'm in awe of my nephew, Henry, like he's the first baby I have ever seen. I look at him and I'm amazed. Even after a year, I am amazed that he is a person who breathes and laughs and moves and thinks.

I am amazed that he is the creation of the love my two best friends share. They're in him -- his fingers, his ears, his squinty grin. When I'm with them, I admit, I will just sit and stare and can't believe he was grown in my friend Cassie's belly. Like a vegetable, only not. But kind of.

It's weird.

Sometimes I laugh at the level of awe I feel, as though I've just found out babies aren't delivered by storks.

In all honesty, this amazement with life stops me in my tracks quite often. Life is amazing; it is incredible that we are here, and even more incredible that we can communicate with one another the way we do, and feel what we feel -- good and bad; that we can live in peace with animals, who are also miraculously here, astounds me even still. That we eat food, which also grows or lives and comes from nothing, but now nourishes us.

To quote Louis C.K.: "I'm still amazed at the shit in my life."

So many people my age have babies now (thanks to Facebook, it's easy to keep track). I knew babies growing up. I was a baby at some point forever ago. But with Henry, it's different. He's the first of his kind:

Babies that actually mean something to me.

I've spent very little time with babies -- or kids, even. Growing up, my friends would always babysit, and were easy-going around babies; it was 2nd nature to them, and they were naturals by the time they reached adulthood. But me? I'm pretty sure I didn't change a diaper until I was in my early-20's, and even then, I was scared to death. And grossed out.

Babies were not my jam.

But Henry and his growth is a learning experience for me, and I don't take the opportunity lightly. His milestones excite me, his joys make me squeal, and his cries challenge me.



So when I was invited to join Matt and Cassie in Half Moon Bay at Poplar Beach for Henry's first visit with the ocean, I couldn't pass it up.

And something strange happened.

It was as though I was seeing the ocean for the first time, too. Watching a young child look at the ocean and feel sand/salt water against his feet without really understanding what it all means, where it all comes from made me think...



... just how grateful I really am. Oh, how long I've taken the ocean for granted! It has been my neighbor for my entire life and seeing the wonder/confusion/excitement in Henry's eyes reminded me that it truly is spectacular.

Can I ever really appreciate it, though, being as used to it as I am?

It reminds me of a line from one of my favorite movies, The Legend of 1900. The main character, 1900, grew up on a ship and has never stepped foot on land; the ocean is his home. He sees thousands of people a year stand in awe of and communicating with the ocean, yet he cannot.

"It's like a big scream, telling you that life is immense. Once you've finally heard it, then you really know what you have to do to go on living. I can't stay here forever. The ocean would never tell me a thing. But if I get off, live on land for a couple of years, then I'll be normal, just like the others. And then maybe one day, I'll make it to the coast, look up, see the ocean, and hear it's scream."



I can never really know what it's like to see the ocean for the first time. In some ways, I envy adults who get to experience that. Perhaps they've lived in the Mid-West their entire lives and seeing the vast, open sea is the event of a lifetime. Sounds, smells, air they've never experienced. Unrivaled.

Imagine that.

Experiencing the beach with Henry was meditative for all of us. We've all grown up here, a mere hour from this place. Henry will, too. He'll never remember what it's like to see the ocean for the first time; his summers and friend's birthdays will be spent splashing in its waves and building castles in its sands. The roar of the waves will be familiar and friendly, not foreign and frightening.

He won't remember his first time, but we will.




* Images property of Stacy, The Sleepy Peach

One of Us Had to Be the First

Baby Henry, image credit: Cassie Rosenbrock

Two months ago, my best friend in the entire world had a baby.  I've known her since the 6th grade, and we've been best friends since we were 15.  Now, at almost 25, she's the first of any of my close friends to actually start a family.

Cassie married her high school sweetheart, Matt, when she was 20-years-old—too young to even [legally] drink at her own wedding!  We knew she'd settle down before any of us.  At 18, we used to discuss what we saw ourselves doing in the future, and even though Cassie talked about her dreams of acting and becoming a comedian, she knew that Matt would always be the most important aspect of her life; nothing else mattered if he wasn't part of it.

To my stupid, never-had-a-relationship-before brain, this sounded downright crazy-pants.

In high school (and for the first part of college) I remember being extremely ambitious.  Lazy, oh my gosh yes, but also a total dreamer with extremely lofty goals of fortune and success and notoriety as a writer or theatre director or critic... something really special.  Something that would take me to New York or Europe or (ha!) Seattle!  I thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it... and thought about it, until I fell into a dark hole of thinking until I forgot what the point of it all was.  I don't mean to imply that I don't still think about these things, but when I was a teenager, it was hard to imagine wanting anything close to what my parents had: something traditional, something expected, something that focused entirely on family—not dreams.  Dreams were something you gave up in order to have a family and provide for them.  (This isn't something I was taught, mind you, it was simply how my feeble brain viewed things.)

Kim with Henry on March 5, 2011

And then my entire perspective started changing, due in large part to Cassie and Matt.  There was something about watching their relationship grow, being there to see them start their marriage, buying a house, and then start planning for (and subsequently making) a family—all while Matt goes to school for his Masters and Cassie does improv for ComedySportz San Jose—that made me think, Hey!  That doesn't seem too bad at all!

Before I go on, I have to say that I know what you're thinking, and no—I do not want marriage or babies at any point in the near future.  On the contrary; two dogs and a cat are tiring enough.  Cassie and Matt's effect on me is a little less obvious than that—gimme some credit, peeps.

Henry was born February 2nd, and it completely changed my perspective on things.  To be fair, little things have been changing me slowly over the past year, but when Henry arrived... I finally got it.

See, I've been out of college for almost three years now; I have friends graduating from Master's programs already!  The transition into "real life" has been difficult, emotional, and sometimes impossible.  Because of the challenges, I've spent two out of the last three years wishing I was somewhere (and, often, someone) I wasn't.

Maybe my recently-graduated friends can relate.  It's really frustrating to think about how carefree college was (granted, in college we thought the same thing about high school—or at least I did!), and how nice it would be to just... slow down again.  Do it all over again.  Try something different, and this time not waste the opportunity.

Making friends is hard outside of school. (This is even more so true in Seattle—the "chill" is real, people!)  Finding a job that you really love, and that fits with your ideals and expectations, seems like the most insurmountable task.  Finding love, for so many, is a constant struggle.  So many things can go terribly and horribly wrong—financially, emotionally, mentally—very, very quickly.

Simply put: growing up is flat-out-effin hard to do.

New mom Cassie

New dad Matt

This is where Cassie and Matt come in.  About a month ago I went home and met Henry (and saw my best friends as parents) for the first time.  Things were calm and normal and simple, with the addition of baby gurgles and smiles, lots of poopings and lots of feedings.  And even though I couldn't stop saying things like "He isn't real!" and "I can't believe you actually made this!" and "He was once in there!" *points to Cassie's belly*, the truth is... it wasn't weird.  Not at all.  On the contrary, it felt so totally and completely right.

I finally understand what Cassie meant when she was 18 and how—despite her own struggles and frustrations—things seemed so clear for her.  Looking at Jon's and my life with him, I feel confident in saying that he is what matters to me, and no other ambitions or dreams are worth anything if he isn't there to share them with me.  We have an extremely bright future ahead of us, with so many unknown obstacles and grand possibilities.

And I want to spend it near the people I love who are living their own futures now, and have no interest in reliving the past.  People who don't live in regret, and who are grateful for the people they love and choose to share their lives with.  People like Cassie and Matt.

Someday Henry will going off to college, and it excites me to think about where I'll be and what my life will look like when he does.

The future, all of a sudden, doesn't seem so scary anymore.