I left the helmet in the hall, put my toddler to bed with extra careful kisses. Then I opened a message to my husband. I wanted to text, "I'm done here. Let's move back home." But I couldn't. Because we are home. And whatever the USA or Poland or other countries used to be to us, they're not home now.
I'm charmed by this hospital. Since being pregnant and having Pippin, I've been to four hospitals in the area. A few months ago Faramir and I joked that before long we'll have visited every single one, and we're making good progress on that. So far, the Havenziekenhuis is one of my favourites. For one thing, it's relatively small, which seemed to translate to less patients and staff, and less rush overall. Despite being under construction- or perhaps because of it - the atmosphere was cheerful. The men putting bookshelves together chatted with passing medical staff ("It's certainly not Ikea furniture!"). The receptionists exclaimed over Pippin's photo ID, and then even more when I pulled back his buggy shade so they could get a better look at the real deal. "Ah, so cute! And he was born the day after my grandson!" The doctor I had the appointment with was professional and friendly, and was willing to dialogue over possible issue...
You become a mother, and you start looking around at other mothers who are doing it better. They make all the baby food from scratch. Create fantastic, imagination-stimulating nurseries in coordinating colours. Maybe even sew baby clothes from organic cotton. A feeling of inferiority sets in. It's known in modern terms as "mommy guilt." Based on the amount of magazine articles, blogs, and web pages it's hugely prevalent. The cure, if there is one, seems to just be to remind yourself that you're doing the best you can for your child. And that all the other mothers are doing the same thing, so it's not worth comparing. Do what you can and don't worry about the rest. If you want to get better, take baby steps - don't give up just because you're still in progress. Enough is enough for now.
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