We had our second baby last month. Two whole days after our due date, in fact.
I spent February doing almost nothing but anticipating our second daughter’s birth.
She was just four days old, nursing in my lap, and I was on the phone with our FRG president discussing ways to help another wife who had had a baby the same day as me.
This spouse was a first-time mom who had just moved to our Navy base. Her husband was a new sailor on our boat.
And while I refused to face the fact that my husband was barely going to meet our new little person before the boat deployed again, it was all I could think about for this new Navy spouse and, now, new mother.
And so, the president and I planned food and support and tried to coordinate ways to help the new family.
As we talked, I remembered having my first daughter almost two years ago and shaking in terror as I sat alone, overnight with my newborn for the first time. Motherhood is harrowing - military motherhood even more so.
I sometimes wonder how I survived those first months. I barely saw my husband and was barely able to handle this 7-pound baby who demanded milk, attention and my constant presence at all times.
Then I remember the spouses who came and sat with me while I learned to nurse her. The women who brought me roast chicken, homemade bread and vegetable soup. The friends who ignored the fact that I hadn’t vacuumed our carpets or combed my hair. The ladies who made me feel a little less alone and, eventually, a little more competent at this kinda, sorta, single parenthood thing.
It may have seemed like it was just me raising my daughter. But back on our first Navy base, that little village raised me as a mother.
This is why I now insist on cooking for new moms in our neighborhood, even as I’m nursing my own newborn. I offer to hold their babies, so they can take a quick shower. I am there to support them.
And they are there still to support me.
After our second daughter arrived, I teared up when I found gifts on the front porch for our newly minted big sister, sewn by a fellow Navy wife.
I was speechless when another spouse made me three giant jars of pasta sauce. Those will be perfect for a night when things get hairy with two kids and a deployed husband.
There is something to be said for holding your chin up and carrying on while your sailor is away. But there is no shame in admitting you need help either. We all do.
And that’s what is so incredibly special about the military community.
Even though it looks, and sometimes feels, like a solitary journey, for those of us left behind waiting, we are truly never alone.
Follow Brittany at www.brittsbeat.com
