Then and Now

            “Your life will never be quite the same again,” my mother told me when I was pregnant with Hayden. I took that as one of those things parents say.  It wasn’t until I was a parent that I understood what that truly meant. Now, as I watch Hayden and Jessica preparing for the birth of their first son I want to tell them the same thing but I don’t because they will know it very soon.

            Anticipating the birth of my grandson on February 21st, in Washington D.C. 37 years after giving birth to my son on February 10th in Santiago, Chile, has got me thinking about “then” and “now”. The excitement grows each week in telephone calls and emails from Hayden and Jessica about preparations, décor of the baby’s room, medical tests, doctor appointments, and “ the stuff” accumulated from three baby showers in January. Plans are set for a C-section birth and even though everything is ready, they hope the baby doesn’t come early because “plans” are in place for the 21st.  So far the baby is right on schedule and cooperating.           

I have all the letters I wrote home each week from Santiago, Chile when I was pregnant with Hayden in 1976 and 1977. (I even have the letters my mother wrote from Santiago when she was expecting me!) Recently I was curious to reread them and remember how things were for us those many years ago.  I began excerpting the parts about preparing for our first baby and compiled them to send to Hayden for his Feb. 10^th birthday

            In those days, Art was a teacher and I was the librarian at the International School, Nido de Aguilas in Santiago.  Living in Chile, we were far from family and it was a difficult time because of restrictions imposed by the Pinochet military government.  My biggest worry was that the baby would come at night after curfew. How would we be able to get to the hospital safely without being arrested?  No one was allowed on the streets of Santiago after midnight and before 6 a.m.  We were told if we kept lights on inside the car and hung a white handkerchief out the window we’d be all right.  That may have been true but I didn’t trust that scenario.  Luckily Hayden was born in the early afternoon.  

              At that time, or perhaps because we were in Chile I don’t remember having the option finding out if the baby would be a boy or a girl beforehand. In many letters I wrote home I suggest baby names asking my parents for an opinion and suggestions.  Hayden and Jessica have chosen to keep the name a secret even though we know it’s a boy.   I am glad... as it heightens the excitement for all of us. 

We had little money and baby things were expensive in Santiago, so we waited until we could buy a used crib and a diaper pail from Americans leaving. Someone gave us a car seat, a rocking chair, and a baby swing. A Chilean colleague knit baby leggings, blankets and little sweaters in blue and yellow that had to be laundered by hand. I had a woman doctor I trusted, and I felt comfortable being pregnant in a Latin American country where children are cherished.  I describe the elegant Sara Moncada Maternity Clinic with private rooms that opened onto individual patios, the lace covered baby cradles in each room, and the three course meals.  This was where many of the upper class Chilean women gave birth and we were going to have nothing but the best for our child. Yet looking back on it, this was not a hospital and I don’t recall worrying about what might happen if something went wrong. Nothing did go wrong.  I remember my doctor coming to my room after the birth, dressed in high heels, dangling earrings and a not very fresh lab coat.  She put her arm around me and with a smile of genuine kindness she told me,  “tiene un hijo hermoso”.  My baby was beautiful and he was nicknamed “el rubio” by the nurses because no one could pronounce Hayden in Spanish and he was the only blonde blue-eyed baby in the clinic.

            Most of what I wrote home about preparations and anticipation of our first baby are the same things Hayden and Jessica are doing.  “I have never felt like something so important was happening to me before,” I read in one of my letters.  I hear this same sentiment expressed each week as they share the latest updates with us. Their excitement and desire to do it all the exact right way is no different than how we felt anticipating Hayden’s birth.

But in our day it seemed much simpler. While recently sharing some of this with my friend Mary, she said, “I sort of remember just going to the hospital and giving birth…I had cloth diapers, baby blankets and a rocking chair…that’s all we needed.”  I know what she means.

  Now we live in a time of so much more information about everything.  We know about all the miracles of modern medicine and perhaps too much about things that can go wrong. We live in a time and a culture of so much material “stuff” with endless options for baby things - so many decisions to make and choices to wrestle with.  I must admit I have great admiration for Jessica in systematically researching what to buy for the baby based on reading and recommendations.  However even though she is determined not to buy everything, she still has so much more baby equipment than we ever did.

 Recently, I learned from my daughter-in-law that young parents in the U.S. are told never to get a used crib because the new ones have so many more safety features.  When she told me this I had mixed feelings.  I love that she and Hayden are going to do all the right things for my grandson to keep him secure and safe.  On the other hand, I could not help but remember my relief years ago when that American used crib became available and we bought it for $80.  Hayden slept in that crib for several years and turned out just fine.