GooGoo for babies

I had a conversation the other day with Jeremy about the intimacy a mother has with her unborn child. He was genuinely interested as he had no clue being a male, how that even worked psychologically and emotionally. For once, I was the giver of information.

In my still very new experience, as I’m only a first time mom-to-be at about seven months, I’ve noticed that there’s a wide spectrum to the kind of connection a woman feels with the baby cooking within. It ranges from absolutely no attachment, to the opposite extreme of infatuation. Me…I think I lie somewhere in the middle.

There was a great article in Newsweek a couple of weeks ago on surrogate mothers. It was a fantastic glimpse into a world I barely knew past that episode of Friends where Phoebe becomes a surrogate mother for her brother. I remember it seeming odd, but only for the fact that she had to give up the babies soon after they were born. It was a heartfelt and touching moment as Phoebe cuddled the twins she bore then reluctantly handed them over to her brother. Hey, it was a good episode for what it’s worth.

One of the girls in the Newsweek article had this similar experience. She became attached and went through quite a bit of depression after handing the baby over to their biological parents. On the other hand, the other women in the article felt little to no emotional connection with the babies. In a nut shell, it came down to it being a job for some decent money (although they won’t tell you that). How can someone go through ten months (yes 10, since there’s about 40 weeks for pregnancy) and be so unemotionally attached? I’m assuming for a surrogate mother, it’s simply because it’s really not their child, biologically.

But, what about non surrogate moms? How are they not attached, even just a little? Unfortunately, I can guess the answer. Usually it was an unwanted or accidental pregnancy. I can definitely see how a woman in that situation can not feel attached to the baby. It’s almost a grieving period for the life they could have had or lost. I liked the way Jeremy put it: The grieving pregnancy and the child are two different things. One can be upset with the pregnancy, but not necessarily with the child, as the child can become a blessing and joy of their life. Or at least I hope so. I would find it very sad for those mothers who regrets the child, even after they're born and live in the idea of “life that could have been”, if only from catching a glimpse into the work Jeremy does.

On a more cheery note, I’ve seen woman be at the complete opposite end of the spectrum where they are completely and utterly in tune with their baby. They coo and sing and talk to their bellies with such love and dedication. And most often, that baby was already named before conception and is referred to that name for the remainder of the ten months. What an amazing connection these woman have. I’m almost jealous that I don’t feel this way, as if I were already a bad uncaring mother to start off with.

We’re still battling with finding a name. I keep repeating different names out loud and I have these images of what personality is associated with them. The more I think about it, the more I realize the baby needs a personality first before I can settle on a name. My doctor, just yesterday, mentioned how she recently just had her second child and had a list of about 30 names brought to the hospital. It wasn’t until the birth certificate was dangling above their heads that they had to do a sort of Survivor elimination to pick a name. Her idea of naming the child before she was born, was sort of superstitious or unlucky. Or at least, that’s what she was able to describe it as. That actually made me feel a little better that we haven’t named this kid yet. Hopefully, if it comes down to the wire, we’ll see his face and say, “Ah ha! You look like …..”. A bummer for getting anything monogrammed beforehand, however.

Back to the whole intimacy with ‘baby who shall not be named’; I still struggle a bit with not feeling overly emotional. I don’t talk to the baby or make googly sounds to him. Jeremy’s actually a little better at it than me. He’ll talk to the baby and even started to read him (and me) bed time stories: Star Wars novels. Yep, we’re geeks at heart.

Don’t get me wrong, I do think about the baby all the time, it’s hard not too when he’s squirming all day long and testing out his fighting skills (or is it underwater ballet?). But, even still it’s more of a conceptual and emotional attachment I have for him. I’m more excited about the idea when he actually arrives and hope this will help with any possible post partum depression that could occur. I tend to be pretty susceptible to depression (as if it were a virus), as I had bouts when I was younger. Jeremy can attest to that; he would have to bring a sledge hammer to knock down the walls I built subconsciously around me.

I wonder if those woman on the far extreme of the GooGoo scale have these romanticized ideas of who their child is, and then get a completely different child when their born? Could that contest to their post partum? I’m figuring, and this is only in theory, if I don’t have this idealistic perception and attachment of who this child is right now, I have nothing to disappoint me when he actually arrives, right? Or at least, that’s what I’m hoping for.