Returning to Spawn

It’s a strange thing to be home and away from home at the same time. 

Salmon are born in freshwater rivers. Yet they live their fun-filled lives out in the ocean. These fish return to the river again only to spawn (i.e. have babies). In fact, many of them return to the exact river and location of their own birth. Like a salmon, floating up stream (to quote one of my favorite songs), I have returned to my birth place and hometown of Fareham, England, to have my first child. Side note, “to spawn” technically refers to depositing eggs, but go with it.

Steve and I had often talked about where we’d have a baby. England was an option, with me being a citizen and my family here. But it seemed like it wouldn’t be practical with my employment: it would mean leaving my job. On the other hand, we both really wanted to have at least one of us be primary carer for our child, especially for the first few years. As someone who has worked in nonprofits, my income tended to be much lower than Steve’s so it works out for me to be the full time carer. Steve would love nothing more than to switch roles with me, and maybe that will happen one day if I can pick up my career to earn enough to support us all. 

Once we found out I was pregnant, we took a few days to think about our options. Travelling to England would mean leaving a few months ahead of the birth and would require me to leave work sooner. It also would allow our roommates a break from the first few months of the baby’s life, when crying and interrupted sleep are most likely. In those moments we’d have the support of my family, whereas in Oakland, we don’t have parents nearby. Of course they’d travel to be with us, but the idea of living with my parents for those early months really appealed to me. Also, it runs in the family–both of my sisters lived at home with their newborns.  So, we made our decision. The baby will be born in the UK as a British citizen and we will register the birth with the US embassy as an American born abroad (just like my Mom did for my sisters and me!). 

Saying Goodbye

The weekend before we left Oakland we said goodbye to the Fishbowl (our shared house) and all of our friends in the Bay Area with a big party. I was worried that I would cry because since I’m pregnant, I seem to cry pretty easily these days. The other week I was watching a movie and cried when there were penguins on the screen. Nothing sad was happening, they weren’t baby penguins. Just cute little Antarctic penguins in the background. 

We had a party on the Saturday night before we left. It was an amazing event celebrating our big move, our friend Catherine’s birthday, and our 3-year house anniversary! I managed to smile through every moment and saved the tears. We had karaoke in the living room, antipasto and pasta in the dining room, two cakes (red velvet with cream cheese frosting celebrating Catherine’s birthday, and a chocolate fudge cake for Steve and me inscribed with a rainbow an “Y’all come back now!”), a chill tea room in the back, a pleasure lounge in the upstairs landing (complete with soft seating and massage tools), and a dope DJ dance party in the basement. Steve and I decided to wear matching sparkly jackets and we did the Salmon Dance (a Chemical Brothers song from 2007, which we both happened to love) as a duet. I sang, and he danced like a salmon floating up stream. 

By 1am I was tired and put myself to bed, managing to sleep pretty well until about 4am. At that time, the last of the party-goers had migrated to the soft, dimly lit pleasure lounge on the landing, right outside my room. I decided to join them, since they were all just laying down anyway. Of course Steve is always the last to leave a party, so he was there. I just lay in his arms and watched some of my best friends cuddling and giggling, recalling fun moments of the night. It was a beautiful end to the night and a beautiful memory to take with me. 

I had been so anxious just to get to England, so I could feel more settled. Since being here, I find it extremely strange. To be without our roommates and our huge community of friends. In Oakland there’s always someone to talk to, something to do, and somewhere to go. I do admit, it’s nice to get a break from the mad rush we had preparing for a baby and a big move. I can really take my time ticking things off my preparation list. And I never feel guilty taking an hour nap in the middle of the day. 

But I really do miss the house and our roommates. We had a video call with all of them on the weekend and it really struck me how much I missed seeing them every day and being around them. Also seeing the house was so comforting. There was something about the familiarity of the cups they were drinking coffee from, or the art on the walls behind them that made me feel more grounded.

Homecoming

My whole family was very excited for us to arrive. My six year old niece Willow (6) kept talking about how I was coming over with a baby. Mom had to remind her I wouldn’t have the baby until after a couple months of being here. Since I’ve been back, Emma (3) told her nursery that her mom was having a baby boy and she would be the big sister– slightly confused there, but still very cute. Last year, as we were sharing our Christmas wish lists, my older sister commented “I don’t want much, just my sister home”, and my younger sister replied, “that's what I’m getting for my birthday” (which was in January). It made me cry. Needless to say, Steve and I have been welcomed home with lots of love and enthusiasm. 

My sisters, Sally and Izy, both live a mile from my parents. The whole family gets together almost weekly. For the past 8 years that I’ve been living in the States, I’ve participated through the power of WhatsApp. I get photos of the Saturday morning snack break at a McDonald's or Costa Coffee. Often blurry because Mom’s not really great with her phone camera, and to be fair the kids barely sit still. I think the thing I was looking forward to the most before coming here was the promise of 5 months of weekend coffee breaks with my mom, dad, and sisters.

We’re living at my parents house. There’s an ebb and flow of life that repeats itself weekly. The doorbell rings shortly after 7am each weekday morning as my nieces flood the house before school. The school run logistics go smoothly with a promise of a sweetie if they get in the car and fasten their seatbelts without a fuss. School buys us 6 hours of time before we pick them up again and drive them to either of my sister’s houses until they get home from work. My parents were in America for three weeks to see my grandpa, so Steve and I got to experience the school run first hand. Though my sisters did get extra coverage during that time, to not put too much pressure on their heavily pregnant sister.

My sisters hug their kids as we get ready to leave at end of snack time a few weekends ago.

On Saturdays we join the weekly “snack time”. My nieces are allowed to eat candy on Saturdays, so they each show up with little bags of sweets and munch through it until they get up to play and run around.  They get along great, almost like 4 sisters, not cousins. At that point most of them are covered in chocolate and candy juices smeared on their faces. Small squabbles and resistance to face wiping ensue as we start to leave. Sometimes they argue back with the adults as we try to get ready to leave. It’s an eye opening experience for Steve and me to see this path we’re embarking on. We do love hanging out with my nieces but, like with any group of kids, it can get very loud and chaotic. A type fo chaos we're not familiar with. Sometimes, Steve and I look at each other and say, “what were we thinking/what have we signed up for?!” But really, I think having kids is a special kind of chaos.  One that looks harder from the outside, but when you're in it there's a kind of magic to it. The ups and the downs.

It’s really nice being with my mom and dad every day. They’re fun to be around, and want to help me out as much as possible. Dad took me to Southampton to find some maternity/postpartum clothes and he offered to buy some newborn onesies for the baby. Mom has joined me at my last few scans. She shed some tears of joy and told me how proud she is of me. It’s fun to think that the egg that has developed into this baby was inside my body when I was inside her body (at 20 weeks gestation a female fetus will have her own reproductive system in place). We eat dinner together every night, and I often join mom to cook. She likes to pick up recipe cards from the grocery store. Last night we made a crab and spinach macaroni cheese bake. However, instead of crabmeat she picked up crab sticks, which I think have no actual crab meat in them! It was still tasty though. Steve does the washing up. It’s very different from when I last lived here, which I barely remember. I was 18 when I went to Sheffield for University and this is the longest time I’ve been back since.

Pleasantly Bored

In the time we’re not with our nieces or my parents, we’re preparing for the baby. Steve likes to joke that we are pleasantly bored. It’s a very different life than living in a big city with roommates, and plenty of friends around for socialising. 

We’re reading endless books. ENDLESS. Books on positive/mindful birthing, sleep training, soothing an unhappy baby, fatherhood (specific to Steve), cesarean sections, labour induction, and so on. There’s a lot to consider and a lot of information out there. I will do a post about the books I’ve read and the ones I’ve found most useful.

Additionally, I’ve done a lot of great bargain hunting. Despite having 4 nieces, it seems my family got rid of all baby supplies. Luckily, my friend Kim has lent us a moses basket and crib, and my mom excitedly purchased a few things for the baby. I try not to go too crazy with buying all the things one could possibly need for a new baby, and buying things second hand has been such a great idea. I’ve found Facebook Marketplace to be a wonderful thing! In America, we were given a nursing pillow, which I couldn’t fit into our suitcases. I just told myself I could make do without. But then I found one for £3 on Facebook. Also, strangely enough, the woman selling it is married to someone I went to highschool with! So that was a funny reunion when I went to pick it up. These days, at 37 weeks, I’m feeling pretty prepared.

I’ve also used my spare time to get creative and crafty. For the first four months of life, a baby only really sees in black and white/shades of grey. So I decided to make my own mobile with black and white felt. I purchased a wooden mobile frame and some black and white felt, which I’ve stitched together. I copied some design ideas from Pinterest, with black squares on a white background, a white heart on a black square, etc. These will dangle over the baby’s crib, hopefully keeping him entertained! I’m not great at sewing, but it’s been fun to make something myself for the baby. Made with love! 

For fun, we go out for dinner every Friday night. We walk down to the nearby village of Titchfield with Porter and sit in the local pub, The Wheatsheaf. They have a restaurant there but we tend to sit in a little side room off the bar with only two tables. It’s more cozy and Porter can join us. We’re on first name basis with the barman, who happened to live in Savannah, GA for 17 years! I got my first tattoo in Savannah when I turned 19. Each time we end up chatting to the people sitting at the table next to us. They’re often local, over 55 and sometimes quite drunk. They’re curious as to why us Americans are here in Titchfield (to a lot of Brits I sound American!). This is often when the joke about us coming home to spawn comes up.  

Steve can talk to anyone, for hours! It’s nice because I eat and then immediately want to fall asleep, so he can carry the conversation until I really have to go home. Stuffed with good food, I waddle up the hill to my house. It’s a group effort: Porter pulls me on the leash and Steve gives me a gentle push.

Not long now until the baby is here and pleasantly bored will turn into something else. I’m not sure what yet. Desperately tired. Overwhelmed with love. Somewhere in between.