The Stretch Mark Club

Chapter 8: I'd Do Anything

Sometimes Zoe makes a facial expression and I get the uncanny feeling I recognize it. And then I remember where I’ve seen it before–the mirror.

Shea

5 Months Old…

Everett was at work and the house was quiet. I lay in bed with Zoe asleep in my arms, thinking how much she had grown already. Five months old. Wow. She’d discovered her feet this week and even started to sit up on her own for a few seconds at a time.

Already I can see her learning about the world. Examining it, cataloging it, trying to understand it. She looks at everything like it’s all so new. And it is to her. It’s a new world for me, too. But I feel like I’m starting to get the hang of this mothering thing. Finally.

I slipped my arm out from beneath her head and sneaked out of bed. The early morning is often the only few minutes I have to myself all day, so when I can, I like to take my time getting ready. Maybe shave my legs if I can work up the energy. Maybe.

As I combed my hair, I thought about my friends. Each of us moving along on our mothering journey, yet none of us dealing with the same situations. Even Jasmine’s twins are so different from each other that I’m beginning to understand why there’s no rule book for parenting.

Andrea is as fussy as ever, which could be attributed to either colic or being a girl. Neither of which, Jasmine can do anything about so she just has to ride it out, which she still isn’t convinced she'll survive. Xavier is finally coming out of his shell--probably a good thing before Andrea runs him over. Jasmine keeps hoping Hector will step in to raise him to be a good man but it seems like she’s seeing less of him than ever. I’m worried about her.

Alexis is already exactly like her mother, which is hilarious. She has all kinds of things to say about when she eats and how, whether or not her mother is changing her diaper correctly, how amusing her toys may or may not be depending on the time of day. Riley’s finally getting a dose of what it feels like to be in the crosswinds of her lightning storm, and it has truly humbled her. She’s still as snarky as ever, though, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Me. What can I say about myself? It seems I’ve finally loosened my grasp on how quickly the world turns. No matter how many parenting books I read or how much I baby proof the house, I can only control so much...and the rest I just have to let be.

A thud jolted me from my thoughts, and I stood up, listening. It took a second for the screaming to start, and when it did, my heart stopped. I shot out of the bathroom and my breath caught in my throat when I saw Zoe face down on the floor next to the bed. I said her name and picked her up cautiously. As soon as she was in my arms, her crying stopped, which made me feel even worse. How could I be such an easy solution to her problem, when I was the cause of it? I examined every single inch of her, and when I was sure she was okay, I slid down to the ground, my mouth wide, my breathing shallow.

That was the day she learned to roll over.

***

A few hours later, Zoe had a doctor’s appointment. I almost cancelled, certain the doctor would see my failure written all over my face. Or worse, on hers. Is there tamper-evident packaging on babies? I went anyway. She’d been rubbing her ears a lot lately, and while she didn’t seem to have an infection, I wanted to be sure.

One thing I have to say about my pediatrician's office is they’re prompt. I remember when I was pregnant, sometimes I would wait in the doctor’s office for an hour, or approximately three trips to the bathroom. In Dr. Meyer’s office, though, I was usually sitting in the back room with Zoe stripped down to her diaper in ten minutes or less. One of the nurses took Zoe’s weight, height and circumference, and then we waited in the bright blue office while the walls closed in on me.