Life Changes, and Luca Goes Gangnam Style

Hear that? It’s silence. Not the kind of silence that waits for a tiny stretch-grunt or sleep-sigh, or for a cry of hunger.

It’s the silence of solitude. This is the first time I have been in a different physical place from my son since he was born. Joe took him out for a little while to give me time to be alone.

Boy, how life changes. I love my son so dearly, and I’m happy I get to stay home with him. But after nearly seven weeks together, night and day, this hour or so respite comes just in time.

Some days, I just want to stay in with Luca. I don’t want to make plans; I don’t want to visit friends. I don’t feel lonely. We play; we dance; we/I do laundry. I start projects and don’t finish them. Blog posts take weeks to finish (except this one, which I started earlier in today before I knew I’d get a little me-alone time). I relish the times when Luca rests his head on my shoulder while I rock him in the Lazy Boy and sing whatever Disney or Broadway tune comes to mind. I treasure the nap times he spends on my chest, his sweet, milky breath pushing his stomach into mine over and over.

Luca "helping" with the laundry

Other days, I need an adventure—even if it’s a small one, compared to Life Before Motherhood.

Us, on Jihachul

On Friday, I braved the subway for the first time with Luca, who was safely burrowed into my Hana wrap. I’d heard the ahjummas (older Korean ladies) are ruthless on Jihachul, poking and prodding babies, and scolding mamas for not dressing infants like Eskimos—even in this humidity.

But really, it was fine. No one bothered me, other than with some interested stares and exclamations: “너무 귀엽다! 너무 예쁘다!” ; “So cute! So lovely!” On the way home later that evening, I had one lady tell me Luca should be wearing pants, but the woman next to me told me (in English) that older Korean women think babies should always be bundled. That woman was one of several friends I made on Jihachul—it’s amazing what an adorable baby will do! I got to practice some of my Korean, though I’m embarrassed by how much I’ve already forgotten. Pregnancy brain? Mama brain?

We met our friends at the Coex Mall in Gangnam, a stylish area south of the Han River (and the focus of the viral hit Gangnam Style. Have you missed it? You gotta watch it). Our matching wraps came from the business that first introduced us: Birthing in Korea, the doula center where I took my Hypnobirthing class. BIK hosts meetups each month where pregnant women and new moms connect.

This is my life now: Mommy meetups and playgroups, though playgroups, at this age, are really just another excuse for new moms to talk. There’s nothing like going through the same dramatic life change at the same time to bond people. The change truly is dramatic. THIS and THIS are what I was working on one year ago, August 24. But on August 24, 2012, I was at the Baby Fair.

Luca and Baby Tucker playing together on the changing table

And, oh, the Baby Fair.

Korea is extremely expensive. Without big-box stores like Babies-R-Us or even Target, fancy department stores are the place to find that perfect stroller or car seat. So when there’s a Baby Fair, the parents and parents-to-be flock to Gangnam for deals.

We spent a lot of time in the ultra-crowded nursing room (a cordoned off area with tables and chairs, and lined with padded tables for diaper changing).

…And we were happy to have our Hana wraps when we ran into a stroller traffic jam.

See? We can maneuver far more easily.

The rush-hour journey home had me rethinking the wisdom of the trip, but it was great to get out and remind myself that I truly can go (almost) anywhere I want with a baby in tow—especially during this sleep-all-day phase of life.
Even with Luca's frequent naps, I find little time for myself. That’s a funny concept to me right now: “myself.” Parenthood really knocks concern for self down several notches. I suppose that’s healthy, but it’s also healthy to find some time to recharge.

So, excuse me now, but thanks to Joe, I’m off to take a bath.