How much *stuff* do babies really (really!) need?

Living on a boat, we're all about clever storage solutions - space is definitely at a premium.

To me that's an advantage, not a drawback. It makes you think twice about everything you buy and what you really need (or not). I like an uncluttered environment, so even the space we do have I don't like to fill up with stuff.

Babies, it seems, bring with them a whole lot of stuff. Some of it clearly necessary, but some of it perhaps optional... as a first time mum I'm well aware I may be eating my words in a few months' time and buying all the stuff, but at the moment, I'm taking a minimalist approach to buying baby stuff:

Things we are buying / necessities:

Our new car seat.

• A car seat. Just got one, second hand, never been in an accident, £10.
• Baby clothes. Got two bags full of second hand neutral ones, mostly bodysuits but also tops, leggings, three hats, scratch mitts, and two thicker outdoor suits - £10 for the lot.
• A carry cot. Got that for £10 too, unused even and still in original packaging! The mattress will be baby's main mattress, placed on our (king size) bed by my head at night (the bed is enclosed on 3 sides, baby being on the inside, so falling out is impossible). In the daytime, the carrycot can go wherever I happen to be at home - lounge, bathroom, wherever. It can be baby's sleeping place when we go out to see friends. We're looking at ways to hang it from hooks on our ceiling in the lounge - I'm liking the idea of baby hammocks with their gentle movement, and taking up less real estate on the furniture!
• A changing mat. Not bought yet; looking to get one that folds up so I can take it places. This is instead of a changing table, for which there's no space.
• Nappies. Can't get away without them! Probably disposables to take to hospital, but definitely reuseables after that. Reuseable cloths too. Coconut oil for cleansing & moisturising bottom. In terms of nappies I'm thinking of simple muslins and/or terry cloths with a cover, so that the cloths can do double duty and be useful for everything else too.
  I'm lucky to live in Bristol as there's a nappy library with lots of advice and even a hire service to try before you buy! Definitely plan to make use of that.
• Nappy / changing bag. Have yet to figure out exactly what I want, but a backpack style one would work best I think.
• A Pourty potty. The only potty design that seems to make sense to me. I plan to let baby relieve him/herself after feedings and whenever s/he seems to want to go, from the start - minimises nappy use & gets them used to toilets!
• A carry wrap. Not bought yet; this will be baby's main mode of transport, being carried by either one of us. This replaces a pram, which we have neither space nor money for; and besides, prams are a pain to get around with. When baby outgrows the wrap, we'll probably switch to a structured carrier like the Ergo.
  Again, Bristol is the place to be - a sling library is available where you can hire a sling for 2 weeks to try it out before buying! Definitely doing that.
• An old lady shopping trolley. Not strictly a baby item, but as there'll be no pram, I'll carry baby in a wrap and drag stuff (shopping, nappies, etc.) behind me in a shopping trolley. Which is much easier to work with through doorways, up stairs and so on!
• An ear thermometer. Am told that is a necessity.

Wow, that's a boatload of stuff already! And I may come across more needful things yet...!

Things we have considered but aren't buying (not an exhaustive list - there are SO MANY THINGS you could buy!):

• Pram. As I said above, I'll start with a carry wrap and hope that'll work for us. Besides, carrying a growing baby around has got to count as a workout and help with rebuilding core strength!
• A baby bed / cot bed. Baby will sleep in our bed, on his/her own mattress so I won't roll onto them. They'll be within easy reach at night - no getting up to feed :-)
• Moses basket. Carry cot will do that job for us.
• Toys. I don't plan to buy any - there'll always be hand-me-downs. And babies don't start off needing toys anyway. As they grow, I'll figure out a system - an amount of toys I'm happy with, and then one in / one out.
• Baby formula, bottles, bottle warmers, sterilisers, accessories. My breasts will have to do.
• Baby monitor. The joy of living in a small space is I can hear what's going on! Besides, Fred (the dog) may turn out to be a perfectly good baby monitor, I've heard of many dogs that would alert the mum even before baby was crying.
• Baby bath. The sink it is!

I can't think of many more things but wow, this whole enterprise is certainly an education!

On taking up space

It's hardly a secret that I have a very messy past. I've talked about my dysfunctional family of origin... but there's much more to my mess than that.

For most of my teens and all my twenties, food was an extremely dangerous enemy to me - to be contained when possible. After years of utter chaos, pain and insanity, I found salvation in a programme of extremely rigid food containment (a blog I wrote for years still exists, both as a reminder for me and to give hope to others) which kept the demon contained. It took work and commitment, but for years I found that I could have a life between meals - all three meals were committed in advance to my sponsor each day, in detail, then weighed and measured; with nothing in between but black coffee, tea or water. No matter what. 24/7, 365, no exceptions. It took planning and commitment but I was able to live life in between those meals.

One day in late 2010 I was at a conference. People were prayed for. I felt no particular need so I stayed in my seat. Someone called me out and prayed for me - I don't remember what he said, only that it wasn't very earth-shattering - but I knew, that evening, that I had been freed. After years of daily, no-exceptions weighing and measuring of my food I started the next day with extreme caution. I took my scale to breakfast, but I had chosen not to call my sponsor that morning. I sat at breakfast and my scale remained in my bag. Slowly, as if the food could attack at any moment, I took my first bite. And another. And I was truly free.

Over the next few months I learned, completely re-learned, how to eat. I was no longer avoiding all sugars, grains and starches as the enemy. I no longer had to wait 4 hours in between meals, or avoid snacks. In learning, I gained some weight; but I never spiralled out of control. I truly had been healed, actually totally unasked-for (I had been convinced I'd found as much freedom as I could ever have!)... but it was like having to learn to walk after a stroke, I had to learn to eat in response to hunger cues and appetites and choices I could make.

While I have been free from the madness since that day in 2010, it's been a journey in terms of body image. I will never have a model body - I'm just not built that way. I'm short, muscular, and strong; not lithe and willowy. My wonderful man calls me 'curvaceous'. I remind myself often that he is the only person I really want my body to appeal to; as long as he likes what he sees, it's all good. That includes myself and my merciless eyes; it doesn't matter if they're less than happy at the mirror's reflection.

Photo taken at about 20 weeks.

Sharing this photo is seriously tough for me, because it shows lumps on an imperfect body (and fat arms); but I'm showing it because for the first time in my adult life, or perhaps ever, something is shifting in my own perception. For the first time, I have an inkling that the amount of space I take up is not too much. That my body has a right to take up the amount of space it does, because I'm pregnant. I'm not disturbed at my belly's growth, I welcome it - my body has every right to expand at this time.

I'm not eating for two, I'm not going crazy with food: those days are over. But I am gaining weight. And for the first time, I'm absolutely fine with that.

What I should and shouldn't tell my husband

Yesterday my Mr. and I spent some amazing quality time talking deeply. I relished every second of it.

Today I thought about it some more - about the things I said to him. I shared my fears openly, things I have thought about, plans for the future and feelings of right now. I've had deep friendships before, but there has never been any other person I have felt able to be so completely open with, to lay everything bare in complete and utter trust.

[Aside: I don't refer to my husband as 'my best friend'. In my mind, that description falls so far short, it just doesn't come anywhere close to describing this relationship. A friend is something I share a bond with, I may love them, I may know them well; but my spouse and I are one in essence.]

I need to learn which layers
of the onion that is me
are helpful to share.

Anyway, after thinking about it today, I don't think everything I shared yesterday was a good idea to share with him. I'm still a novice at this marriage thing, so I have a lot to learn; and one thing I have yet to find good balance on is what I do and don't tell my husband.

He is, after all, only human - and no matter how open I am with him, he can't truly get into my mind to put in context what I'm saying. (oh for a Vulcan mind meld!) So when I told him, for example, that I didn't know what to do if I found our child's personality unloveable - that wasn't helpful. Yes, I've idly mused about it, but it's not a true worry for me. When I said it, however, I could see concern in his eyes and even as he tried to reassure me I knew I couldn't backpedal and take the words back, though I'd have liked to. He didn't need to hear this, it's not a true worry that occupies my mind, and now I fear I've planted a worry in him unnecessarily.

If I could have shown him my whole mind, with this particular thought in context, I would have done and he could have dismissed it for the fleeting, silly musing it was. But words skew things. Once I've articulated something it has been put out there and has become defined - even if before that, it was just a vague idea.

Johari Window

In short, I've got to remember that my Mr., though wonderful, is only human and the only person with whom I can truly share all the stuff is Jesus. That's because he has the context, as he knows my inmost thoughts (Ps. 139) - he knows what's big and what's small in my world and my words can't skew his perspective.

In the good old Johari window, God has the overall view, seeing things even I don't know. My Mr. knows what I tell him as well as lots of blind spots I'm sure to have, but he can't know what neither I nor others know, and there are parts of me in the 'hidden' frame that he doesn't need to know. And that is not about withholding part of who I am from him - as I say, all of me is his to know. It's only respecting that he is a fellow human being, with the same limitations as me, and the loving thing is to carefully weigh my words before dumping it all over him and leaving him with worries and burdens he needn't carry.

For myself, I need to cultivate the mental discipline to stay away from the unfruitful mental rabbit holes I can sometimes get stuck in (Mr. is great at not doing that!) but instead dwell much more on 'whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, praiseworthy, excellent' (Phil. 4.8) in my own mind, and be a source of strength, joy and encouragement to my man.

Reminder: I'm not in charge of my life (phew!)

Been pondering some huge things lately. Like, who runs my life? And if it's not me, is that OK?

As a single person it's fairly easy to think it's me. Myself and I, we're good, we have plans. (and God laughs?); married, it gets a little more complicated because every decision affects us, not just me. Now, with a new person growing inside me, I'm definitely starting to lose the blinders and see that I'm not actually in charge of my life. And the relief is beautiful.

If I was in charge, I'd have to not only make the decisions but face the consequences as well. When I make most of my decisions, I have to do it without knowing 100% of all the facts and possible influencing factors... so a decision made to the best of my knowledge at the time may turn out to be horribly wrong.

Just little me again, looking puzzled.

Those are some lofty and nebulous ideas, so let's bring this home to make clear where I'm coming from with this...

I (emphatically) never wanted to have children. Then I met my Mr. and he wasn't put off by that! He was ambivalent about them; happy to have them if they came along, happy to live the rest of his life as a non-dad. I asked him once if he would feel as if he'd missed out on something if he found himself 70 years old and childless. He said no, not at all. This gave me enough peace of mind to marry the man - had he told me he wanted to start a family within the year, I'd have run a mile!

That said, however, I didn't marry Mr. with a firm intention to have no children. [I did know he'd been married before and there had been no kids; but, the reasons for that I didn't know. So there was a real possibility that we couldn't have any children, and we were both fine with that.] I went into this marriage trusting that God had designs for it, and if children were to be part of that, he would also provide everything we needed. So we never tried to avoid conception, and neither did we particularly try to conceive. We just got on with enjoying married life!

If I had tried to finally and firmly make up my mind, think everything through, and come to a decision as to whether or not I wanted children, I would have tied myself in knots and still not been certain by the time the menopause arrived. So, glad I'm not the one in charge of my life, I left it in God's capable hands.

And he orchestrated this beautifully! About a year after we met, we married; about a year after that, we are now expecting our first child. I couldn't have planned it better if I had tried.

I think our God has a very fine sense for irony.

Maybe love is all the point there is?

Following my rather rambling explorations last week I've had lots of time to reflect, think, and take in people's comments on Facebook. This issue of what's the ultimate point hasn't let me go. But I feel like I may have the beginnings of an answer. Or perhaps, all there is to the whole answer.

What if, at the end of the day, parenting is about love?

Roll your eyes all you want. Of course that's obvious. But it's deep, too - much deeper than trite greeting card wisdom and worn-out proverbial sayings.

As parents, we love because... love. Consider: perhaps to put a 'because' in there is blasphemy. We are to love.

'Becauses' reduce the love, because it becomes conditional. We don't love our children because they do well: they are not our projects to turn out well. Projects are worked on, not loved. We are to just love.

No conditions.

Perhaps this is why becoming a parent is such a spiritual experience for many. This is where we, sometimes suddenly, sometimes more gradually, experience the power of a love based on... love, and we begin to understand in our own small ways what God's love is like. We get a glimpse of God's very own heart, his very own emotions. Love based on... love himself.

I don't know why, and I can't put it into words yet, but I love this child I haven't even met yet.

The value of parenting

What's the value of parenting?

I have never valued childhood. I disliked being a child, being treated as a child, not being taken seriously. I couldn't wait to grow up. By age 12, I was my mother's best friend and confidante, I made my own decisions - among them, freeing our family from our father's presence by moving him out - and I thought independently. Ever since, I have viewed the years before 11 or so as wasted time. Time 'before I started really thinking'.

Little me.

I never had any patience for my sister's childishness. She was a child - she thought like one, acted like one, and fair enough, she's six years younger than me! I discounted her thoughts and opinions because she was 'just a kid'. She's the only child I had any dealings with, until very recently, and the way I dealt with her was pretty much to make her obey and keep her quiet.

It's not hard to guess where this disdain for childhood came from. As a child, I was powerless; adulthood meant independence and self-determination. I needed it as soon as possible!

Of course I know that God values children. 'Let the little ones come to Me'... but why? I ask, in all sincerity, what is the value of childhood? - Does it have any?

All creatures need time to grow up to maturity. I just never saw the value in the process, and perhaps I still fail to see it clearly. Children must gradually learn facts, social skills, behaviours until they reach adulthood. They are formed by their caregivers until they are mature enough to accept or reject that formation. And that is the rub of my issue.

If this is all that childhood is there for - what is the value of parenting? As a mother, do I expect to slave away for something between 14-18 years until that child is ready to make their own decisions, which may or may not have anything to do with what I tried to show and teach them? 

Personally I see my childhood as an isolated phase, it has no bearing on my life now. I tend to think that nothing my parents said or did formed me, except where I allow it to; my values, aims and views are completely different from theirs. Sure, what happened in my life as a child has shaped me, but none of that shaping is from their parenting efforts. My mother would have loved to see me embrace music and make a living from it, being independent from any man and touring the world. My father? I have no idea what he wanted for me. I don't think he did. But he certainly did nothing to make me value family and marriage.

The question I'm still wrestling with - the deep sense that has always meant I wasn't keen on motherhood - is this: why invest so much of myself, emotions, time, love, effort, into years of bringing up a child who may well end up keeping nothing of what I built into them?

Why should it be worth all that?

...

A mother? Never ever did I think...

I never wanted to be a mother.

My mother never wanted to be a mother.

I took her attitude and built on it. She felt, and was, trapped by us children in a marriage to an abusive, manipulative, alcoholic womaniser. Two weeks after my birth she was back at work, her safe place.

I grew up with an internal vow: I will never be trapped. That's why marriage was never a big goal for me; I had things to do, places to be, a big world to explore. When I became a Christian at 21, that didn't really change - I was out to experience as much of the world as I could, see places, do things. I did begin to serve God, but on my own terms: in my strengths, as a marketer, through work, in my friendships. Not in ways that would require real sacrifice or inconvenience.

Children have always been, to put it mildly, an inconvenience in my view. They are needy, endlessly so, and whenever I would visit friends with kids I saw them as annoying interruptions to the (adult) conversation. I've never babysat other people's kids. I would (politely) tolerate them when visiting friends' houses, since that was where they lived - but if I'm honest, I didn't visit those friends too often. Much easier hanging out with fellow single and/or childless friends. I remember one friend in Winchester, mother of two or three small kids, who looked after her kids full time. I saw what her days were like and thought, if I had to live that way I would die from mental boredom. What dullness, endless, daily, unrelenting drudgery.

There have been some kids I enjoyed. Also in Winchester, one couple with lots of kids, I loved being at their place. Their kids were smart, easy to talk to, polite, well-mannered. (They were also years older than the previously mentioned friend's, obviously). I admired their parenting and thought, if/when I grow up enough, this is what I want too. But I didn't honestly think I could do this - I haven't experienced healthy parenting and, simply put, I just wouldn't know how to do it.

That is my background. Years of walking with God have diminished my worst fears about getting trapped. Even five years ago I would never have given up my work and entwined my future with a man's. Depended on his provision. Cast myself at his mercy. I've grown to trust God more since then: I know I'm always at his mercy, and he is merciful.

Still - if I didn't trust my man as fully and implicitly as I do, if there was any doubt, any insecurity, I would never have done it. I believe that's why God gave me this particular man: reliable, solid as a rock, committed. He's many more things than that, but I needed those as foundations to trust him.

A year on since from our marriage I'm now facing what is, to me, the ultimate renunciation of everything I stood for before I knew Jesus. Attitudes I carried into my Christian life, that had to be purged slowly and gently; and they are still being purged. I'm going to be a mother.

Baby at 12 weeks. This is inside me...!