When I was 33, I had a baby. I also had no clue.
Backing up a few weeks, I really, really wanted a baby. We tried for months (boxers instead of briefs, no hot tubs, counting ovulation cycles, and learning to sleep on my back with my legs in the air to keep the little swimmers going in the right direction), until finally a little pee stick changed our life with the blink of a bright blue stripe.
It was at that moment that I realized I knew absolutely nothing about babies. I’m talking zip, nada, nyet. The second-to-the-youngest of six kids, I never helped raise any younger siblings, and my summer jobs while growing up didn’t include babysitting. And now I was pregnant. What have I done??
Resolving this deficiency the only way I knew how, I promptly rushed to the bookstore and bought every single baby parenting book in print and spent the next several weeks studying them with the intensity of a law student cramming for the LSATs. Huge mistake. Huge. However many books you have, that’s exactly how many differing expert opinions you’ll get on the subject of early childhood development. Getting close to my due date, I was a frustrated, teary mess, convinced I now knew less than before and that no matter what I did, it would be wrong. Without question, I was going to wreck my baby.
Jake was born shortly thereafter, and all evidence indicated I was right. He had a screaming cry that would wake the neighbors in the next county, and every time he belted it out, I knew I was failing. “What’s wrong with him??” Hubs would shout over Jake’s raging. “I don’t know,” I wailed. “I don’t know.” Even when I got it right, I was fearful and anxious. All. The. Time. I was going to drop him. I was going to accidentally drown him. I was going to leave him somewhere and forget where I put him. I was going to say or do something that would scar him for life.
Hubs finally decided we needed some help “just until I got the hang of it.” Advice from my mother invariably started with, “You know, not every woman is a natural mother,” so that wasn’t an option. He suggested his mom. Yeah, no. Think Marie on “Everybody Loves Raymond,” with slightly more snark. Even broaching the subject brought on a tirade of “Tsk, tsk. Mothering is something women just know how to do, dear. But if there’s something wrong with you, well…” Next choice.
We finally decided on help outside the maternal family tree. Someone who could teach me what to do and make sure I didn’t kill the baby while learning. We called a local agency who immediately sent out a nine-foot-tall amazon named Angelica. I don’t know what Ange did in her past life, but clearly it wasn’t childcare. When she pulled into our driveway, the first thing out of her car was a mile-long leg encased in skin-tight jeans and stilettos. She insisted that Hubs had already hired her. “He’s got early dementia,” I told her. “I know he’s only 35, but it’s genetic. Talk to his sibs. If they remember they’re related. Now off you go.”
We contacted a new agency and scored. Bing was fabulous. Close to my age, she was from the Philippines, spoke several languages, could cook dishes from around the world, and most importantly, was a whiz with babies. From the second we brought Jake home, they were besotted with each other. (More than one friend suggested that if she ever slept with Hubs, I’d be out on my keister. WTH. I wanted to marry her too.)
Bing taught me to feed, diaper, rock, bathe, and change a tiny human without breaking him. When it took almost a week for my milk to come in (breasts swollen to the size of the Andes Mountains, and totally nonfunctional. Even my body sucked at mothering), she dried my tears and Jake’s, and taught me how to bottle feed him without guilt.
Jake was the undisputed king of his castle. He didn’t learn to walk until well into his second year because he simply didn’t have to. He’d point to where he wanted to go, and “Bing-Bing” would pick him up and deliver him to the appointed spot. Needless to say, King Jake and I had a few go-rounds on the weekends, when Bing-Bing was in the city. We compromised. He walked on Saturdays and Sundays.
When it was time for Jake to learn to talk, she taught him Tagalog, which would have been adorable except for the fact that Jake’s parents didn’t speak Tagalog. We spent his an entire year endlessly repeating, “Speak English, Jake. English.”
And so it was that we raised young grasshopper together and Bing became family, living with us until Jake turned three. (There was that one teensy stumbling block on the day Jake called her “Mama.” I cried for two days, then announced a new game, where Jake and I would sit on the floor, I’d point at him and he’d yell “JAKE,” then I’d point back at me and he’d yell “MAMA.” We played it for hours, until all confusion about who was what was eliminated. I wasn’t sharing this one.)
Three years later, Bing agreed to marry a man who lived in Southern California, so with many hugs and equally as many tears, we said our goodbyes.
Bing taught me that children are resilient and that love is more important than skill for a new mom (Although knowing how not to drop the baby should be practiced during pregnancy, not post-partum. Just sayin’.) She taught me that it truly does take a village, and I feel less guilty knowing baby Jake was loved by so many. Someday I’m sure Jake will tell his children about Bing-Bing.
SmackOfHam says
That was a wonderful story. I wish we had a Bing when we adopted our first girl. To prove I wasn’t a natural born parent, the first morning with our new child I was holding her when she started to spit-up. My immediate reaction was to (gently) throw this 10 month old child away from me onto the bed. Your story made my morning.
Karla Grant says
Your remembrance of Bing reminds me of Norma. When I was child, Dad was in the USAF and we were based for four years in the Philippines at Clark AFB. We had a lovely “housegirl” called Norma, who helped with the housework and looked after us. She was lovely, gentle, and my little brother was permanently attached to her hip! She carried him everywhere, and if he wanted something, all he had to do was point and grunt, and she would know exactly what he wanted! The worst thing about leaving the PI was leaving Norma. xxx
Elizabeth Lee says
I never had a Bing, but I thought my youngest child would NEVER learn to walk. He had three big sisters who carried him everywhere.
A Pleasant House says
Sweet story Vikki! Where was Bing when I needed her? Instead I had that mother-n-law you spoke of, and her son who insisted she knew every damn thing as he was evidence of- my point EXACTLY. EeGads.
Considerer says
This is very sweet – I’m so glad you found someone so perfect, who fit so well with your family, and who supported you all so well :) This is beautiful.
Amy @ Ms. Toody Goo Shoes says
Great story, even though pregnancy for me is a good 15 years in the rear view mirror. But I do remember waking up one time in a panic, thinking, “WHAT HAVE I DONE?” And I went through the nanny-envy thing, too. But, now, 14 years later, I guess I can say I’m doing OK with it!
QMM says
Great story. We had 6 little ones. In my day it was customary to have a nanny come home with you for a week or so to help. If you had the money that is. Most were LPNs doing private duty. We had someone for the first 4 after that I felt like I had some idea how to manage. Of course I was worn out by that time. LOL. Would not change it for anything.
Sarah says
Man, I could’ve used a Bing with my wee one. I found myself longing for a sister wife- but, ya know, one that my husband didn’t sleep with.
Beverly Diehl says
I’d have sent Angelica on her merry teetering way, too. Though sometimes the most amazing and unlikely people can be GREAT with kids – nose rings, tattoos, and all.
Thanks for the giggle. Those were good, if terrifying years.
Sue says
Loved this and so happy to know I am not the only one who had all these fears and doubts. We had no one to help us, but the sitter we had while I went to work everyday qualifies as the one I was put out by for fearing my little one would call mommy!
Jean says
I have several moms and so do my kids. I wouldn’t think of raising children any other way. This was a lovely tribute to Bing-Bing! Also, both my kids called my mom “mama.”
Susan Bonifant says
What a mixed bag it is to want someone who connects with your child, without feeling competitive. Something tells me you figure these things out pretty quickly, though.
Connie McLeod says
I was also 33 when I had my one and only and had never changed a diaper. My Mom was a great help and my baby’s first words were Nana.
Eva Gallant says
What a great story; how fortunate you were to have found Bing.
Michelle says
Great story! I had no clue either. We actually put our first child into a vibrating crib and panicked when he slept for 8 hours straight. I was breastfeeding and it was not pleasant at that point with a child sleeping that long. We called the pediatrician because we were so distressed. His solution? “Have you tried turning the vibrating part off?” Yeah, that worked. We felt pretty stupid. LOL
Mo at Mocadeaux says
Love IS more important than skill. Love and trusting your gut. Bing sounds like a very special woman.
Kay Lynn says
Just found your blog via Gen Fab and you had me in stitches this morning. I was 22 when I had my first child and clueless. Family was 1,500 miles away and I couldn’t afford help.
Fortunately, my son survived and doesn’t seem worse for the wear. :)
Mary-andering Creatively says
Sweet. Love your sense of humor and willingness to share the love. ;)
says
Great story. I thought I knew a lot books classes an babysitting tell I brought Maurice home. I couldn’t even figure out the snaps on the sleeper. After child 2 an 3 each 5 yrs apart I seemed to be getting the hang of it. Then there was a lapse of 10 yrs an I said I’m what no way yap at 42 pregnant again. Well it 14 almost 15 yrs later going through the teen yrs. The others are grown doing fine. An the young one well she’s spoiled rotten. next come Grandkids sence I figured out what caused the first 4 an got that fixed. I feal bleessed that they all turned out ok sence I didn’t know what I was doing either.
Jennifer @ The Quirky Momma says
That is a wonderful story! Thank you so much for sharing.
I actually knew a lot about babies and children, having worked as a nanny and child care center director and employee for years prior to having children. I know younger children, not the teenagers I have NOW! I need the ‘How to Deal With Cranky, Hormonal, Insane, Boy/Girl Crazy, Snarkly Teenagers’ guide book. I have no idea what I’m doing with the teens at all.
Joy says
Aaaawww Bing Bing sounds heavenly! Good for you knowing your options wouldn’t work out well. The last thing a post-partum Mom needs is MORE guilt!
Your Mom fears sound REALLY FAMILIAR to me! When I had my first child, I was so nervous I broke out in an all-over rash, then got hives on TOP of the rash. He’s 18 now, still alive, and yes, I’m STILL nervous :)
Scarlett says
I found you on Flash Fridays. I totally agree with your post. Almost 2 years ago, I had my baby after 3 years of trying. I was 34. I didn’t have much baby experience either. The hospital nurses were shocked I had never changed a diaper…in my life…I was distraught. I was 34, did everything right, had a Master’s Degree for heaven’s sake and I left the hospital saying, “they’re gonna let me take him home…I don’t know if I can do this!?!” We’ve settled in after 2 years, but I still feel clueless at times…
Natalee says
What a completely fascinating story! I have 8 kids and have been a “Bing” to many a sister and friend. It’s great that women can share these things with each other. Do you still keep in touch with her?
Rosey says
What a sweet story. It’s nice and lucky that you found her! :)
I’m visiting today from Raising Imperfection.
Leslie says
Awww, what a lovely post. Do you still keep in contact with bing?
Leslie says
Thank you for linking up to Raising Imperfection!
Make sure to check back on Friday to see if you were featured.
Leslie
http://www.violetimperfection.com
Shelly- minettesmaze.blogspot.com/ says
This is hilarious! I think every woman on some level thinks this way. Will I be a good mom, how much do I really know about raising kids? I believe that we all can just do the best we can to raise them with love, morals, respect, and all around to be a good person. And cross our fingers that it works! Hope that they will be a respected, and productive member of society! And everyone needs help along the way. Hell, we learn alot from our children ya know.
Shelly from MinettesMaze
Lanaya | Raising Reagan says
That is the crazy thing … children are resilient and we can be the crappiest parents on some days but they still smile at us and love us.
Thank you for linking to Raising Imperfection.
Please come back Friday to see if you were featured. :)
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¸.•*´
(¸¤ Lanaya | xoxo
Raising-Reagan.com
Sarah says
Great story!! Thank you so much for sharing & linking up at Thank You Honey’s Whatever Wednesday Party!! Hope to see you this week!!
Darcy Perdu (So Then Stories) says
Our Bing is called Shenny and we ADORE her! So glad you also had such a great experience with a loving caregiver!
Karen says
Awwwww….I love Bing too! And I don’t even have a baby any more. But yes–my mother-in-law told me she owed 99% of her parenting skills to the German nurse she hired to help her look after my husband. It doesn’t have to be family, and in a lot of cases it really *shouldn’t* be family that teaches us how to parent.
Laura says
I was a NICU nurse when I had babies and was still at a loss. I’ll never forget that first day alone with baby #1; my mom had gone back to Texas and my husband was at work. I put Pearce in the swing and just sat and stared at him, waiting for him to need something.
Kymberlyfunfit says
Two parents, one baby (now 21), 4 grandparents, loads of aunties and uncles, and a sense of humor. Those odds seemed about right when my daughter was born. I don’t know how single parents do it.
Carol Cassara says
Truly, it’s a wonder any of us survived our own infancy, especially first borns!
Susan Maccarelli says
What an awesome experience! I bet she hated leaving. I needed her when I had my first too — still do!