by Ariella Papa
“I have quite a few summer dresses that should do fine,” I argued. Claudia and Ruth exchanged the kind of look that David and I exchanged when one of our children was doing something completely unbelievable and we weren’t sure how to respond or who should react first. Claudia poured mojitos into glasses she had chilled.
“Aren’t you happy to be getting married?” she asked.
“Of course. I never thought much about it, but I am happy to be getting married. I don’t really know if I need a whole”—I raised my fingers into quotes—“’wedding’. You know, I don’t know that we need all the bells and whistles.”
Again the look. This time Ruth had the floor.
“Well, this wedding seems kind of important to David, no?”
It was important. And though I never would have guessed he would be so into it, he was. And it was time I started adjusting to everything, to change. I always thought back on things that had happened in our relationship and who we were instead of what was to come and who we could be. Maybe it was time to set aside my own needs and obsessions with who we were in the past and look forward and think about him.
“You know, you’re right, it is.” I looked back and forth between them. “And if it’s important to him, it needs to be important to me. I guess I don’t know anything about weddings. I have no idea how to plan a wedding. Maybe I need a little help from someone who knows how to organize things.”
Both Ruth and I looked at Claudia.
“Wow, this is exciting,” she said. Her cat-that-ate-the-canary expression scared me a little. Like the guest list, I sensed this was going to get out of my control before I could stop it.
“I mean obviously, I still want it to be me,” I said quickly. Ruth laughed.
“She means she still wants it to be artsy,” Ruth said, referencing Claudia’s night of drink spilling. This was Ruth’s way of ribbing the both of us. It was hard to believe that three of us had any kind of inside joke. But we did. These women who were way more mainstream than I was were becoming my closest friends. I valued all their opinions and perspectives.
“Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to have a formal black-tie affair. A wedding should represent the personality of the couple,” she said as if she was quoting Martha Stewart. This reassured me. She knew I wasn’t about being a fairy-tale bride. “There are several things that I think make a wedding.”
“What? What are the things?” I asked, leaning closer. Ruth laughed at my enthusiasm. “C’mon, if I am going to do this, I need to know the secret.”
“Well, the food, for one.”
“David and his dad are taking care of that. They have a lot of relationships with caterers.”
“The cake.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that one. David mentioned that those were really pricey and specialized and he didn’t want to call in a favor for that. We were thinking we could get some cupcakes. Or maybe a cake would be nice. I wonder if I would have time to make a sheet cake or something and decorate it.”
“How are you going to have time for that? Keep it simple. I had cupcakes at my wedding,” Ruth said. She looked at Claudia. “You’re not into that, are you?”
“No, cupcakes are cute, but I was actually thinking I could make you a cake.”
“You? You could?”
“Yeah, you won’t have time to do it. And your wedding falls on my off day. Peter will have the kids that day and night because it’s the third Saturday and even though usually that is my time he needed to switch for another Saturday, for a big presentation . . .” Claudia went on explaining how come she didn’t have her kids on the day of my wedding in great detail, and I kind of tuned out until she mentioned the three words all mothers universally understand. “I miss them.”
She was sad, even though she put on a brave face. I never thought of her as being that emotional, but she was. In a way, I think this separation was putting a lot of things in perspective for her. She was gaining gratitude for all she had instead of constantly wanting more.
“I mean, you’d think I would love having all this free time, but I do kind of wonder what they are up to when they aren’t around.” She looked up at us and then she realized that she had gone off on a long tangent and distracted herself. Some things hadn’t changed.
“But anyway,” she continued. “Making the cake would give me a little focus for my day off. It will be a challenge. It will be fun.”
“But wait, have you ever made a wedding cake?” Ruth asked. I was glad she did.
“No, but I’m more than sure I can.” She was confident, I would grant her that. And I wasn’t even supposed to care about this to begin with. So I agreed.
“What kind of cake do you and David eat?”
“Um, I like lemon and David likes chocolate. I guess I would eat chocolate if we have to choose one.”
“No need. I can make one of the tiers lemon and one chocolate.”
“Tiers?” I asked. “Isn’t that a little ambitious?”
“I’m not worried,” Claudia said. “Piece of cake. Ha-ha.”
She laughed really hard. She’d been doing more of that lately too. She looked at Ruth for approval. Ruth said. “You made a funny.”
“Is there anything else I need other than food and cake,” I asked. “I mean, anything I should do.”
Again Ruth and Claudia exchanged the look and looked back at me. This time Ruth spoke. “You aren’t going to like it.”
And so we went dress shopping the next day. I couldn’t remember the last time I did that. I rarely bought adult clothes anymore. I occasionally knit sweaters for myself or sewed a quick skirt. Every once in a while I dashed into a store to buy a T-shirt if I had a moment when the kids were cooperative. But to actually go shopping with other women? That was amazing.
I expected them to kind of do their own thing and then we would meet at the register and grab a coffee or something. But that wasn’t how it was going to be. Ruth and Claudia had already been shopping together for work clothes. They were apparently shopped out. This was all about me.
It was kind of fun. They parked themselves outside the fitting room and demanded I show them everything I tried on. As they waited, they talked about Ruth’s new nanny. Her name was Suze and Ruth was in love with her.
“She reminds me of me when I was twenty-four, except way more responsible.”
“But don’t you think you should see more candidates?” Claudia asked.
“But it all works perfectly. She is getting her master’s in early-childhood education, so she can work only three days a week, which at first was a con, but now my mother-in-law Pam will come on one of the days and I am going to be home on Fridays, so it works out.”
“That sounds cool,” I shouted from the dressing room. Lately, I had been thinking I might want to recruit David’s mom for a half day or so each week and start giving Amanda more hours. Sometimes I think I was so caught up in doing everything that I didn’t want to miss anything. But it was ok to rely on other people if I could and if that meant I could do more for me.
From outside the dressing room, Claudia still wasn’t convinced that Ruth should be going with this nanny. “But she is the only person you saw.”
“Well, I talked to a bunch of women on the phone and I got the best feeling from her right off. Claudia, it took me the longest time to conceive a child. I delivered four weeks early in anything but ideal circumstances and I definitely had a rough go of it, as you know, at the beginning of Abe’s existence.”
“I know,” Claudia said. She was backpedaling a little.
“I mean, I love a story as much as the next girl, but if I get to have one aspect of parenthood that doesn’t involve a story, that just goes smoothly, I’m going to accept this. Maybe I am getting lucky for once.”
It seemed like a good time to distract them, so I opened the door and stepped out to show them my latest dress.
“OMG,” Ruth said.
“Wow,” said Claudia.
“I know
,” I said. “It’s a little low cut, right?”
“If you got it, flaunt it,” Ruth said. “You look amazing.”
“I think I might cry. I really do love weddings,” Claudia said.
“Wow,” I said and then just for the hell of it, maybe for them, my new friends, maybe a little for me, I let my voice get really high and I shouted, “I’m getting married!”
And so here I stood in my sexy, sleeveless, slate-blue dress. I stood next to my new husband in his new bakery in the center of a circle of people who formed around, clapping and projecting love. It really was a tangible feeling of joy that I had, surrounded by so many, surrounded by my beautiful children. It was almost too much.
In the corner was a four-tiered wedding cake with trim that perfectly matched the colors in my dress.
We had vowed to each other things we were going to try to live. Among other things, I vowed to be accepting of anything that came our way. I vowed to support him no matter what. And David vowed to be honest with me and grow back his beard. (That got a cheer from Ruth and Claudia in their sexy new sundresses.)
My children were excellent for the occasion. Naomi let herself be passed around loving arms without too much fuss. Sage and Julissa ran around, happily holding up their white skirts. I didn’t spend the entire time worried about what people were going to say or how they were going to react to Sage.
David and I had spent a night talking about all the things between us. For now, I was going to keep my studio and Sage and Julissa would continue to share a room. As far as Sage, David was concerned and I had to respect that and admit that I was too. I didn’t want to be. I didn’t want to stifle him, but I also didn’t want him to suffer.
We called our pediatrician and told her the whole story. When she didn’t seem worried I felt intensely relieved.
“Remember, you are the parent, so you are in control. But why don’t you turn it around and give him a choice between two boyish or gender-neutral outfits every day? If he won’t choose and he really insists on the pink and sequins, it’s still not a big deal. Most boys do grow out of this. And if he doesn’t, well, wouldn’t you rather be supportive then stifling? Remember, he is sandwiched between two girls, so he probably wants to fit in. I think his big sister is a huge influence on him and all of this is to be expected.”
That put David at ease. We both agreed to relax about it and to keep checking in with each other about how we felt. Neither of us were going to make the other feel bad about how they wanted to deal with it. It was the one thing we hadn’t agreed on as parents. The first thing, but it probably wasn’t going to be the last. And as long as we felt that Sage wasn’t bothered by anyone’s attention—and so far he hadn’t been—we were going to try not to let it bother us.
And looking at Sage now, I saw he was happy. Maybe if we relaxed with him some of the anxiety and sensitivity that concerned me would lesson and he could be just be happy in his own skin.
As our guests clapped, making me feel more love that I knew was possible, David leaned into my good ear and whispered, “I love you.”
We were still Mom and Dad, man and woman. Now we were more. We were husband and wife. We had had a beautiful past, but there was more, so much more I believed to come in our future. And that really was superduper.
Chapter 20
Ruth Understands All Good Things Must End, Including Maternity Leave (and Books)
Really, all it takes is one good day. So far I am having one. And even though it is Monday and I am tired from the weekend’s festivities, I had my coffee in hand and I know that Abe and Suze were only a phone call away
I feel good. I am spit-up-free. I got out of the house without incident. I decided at some point last week after having to do last-minute changes twice that the best thing to do was make my shirt the last thing I put on. This didn’t protect my lower half from projectile puking, but it certainly puts the odds in my favor.
As a producer, I have to be organized. But now I am überorganized. I lay out not one, but two outfits every night. Once at work, I manage to pump while answering my emails three times a day (with my office door not locked but barricaded). I think Claudia has inspired me to get shit done. And I do.
And Abe is happy too. He is sleeping better, sleeping through the night from eight to seven. At least he has done that for four straight nights, and Kirsten says that once something happens three days in a row, it’s a habit. He lights up when he sees me come home, and Suze distracts him when I leave. I think I feared that he wouldn’t realize I was his mother, but the nursing thing really puts my mind at ease in a lot of ways. And I love that time with him now; I can’t believe it was ever so hard. Now the boob seems to solve everything, for both of us.
I actually believe he loves me. He coos so contentedly sometimes when he is on the breast that I think that has to be love. I never would have thought any of this got easier, but then suddenly somehow it does.
And the best part is, he is laughing. I don’t even have to work for it. I make a silly face or dance around the kitchen with the dishrag and it’s like the best thing he’s ever seen. It is. For real (because he hasn’t seen much). I like feeling funny again. I know it’s kind of cheating, but I am a sucker for an audience.
And once again, it was true what they say—the first day back was the hardest. I cried on the subway. I felt a little self-conscious, but it’s New York City so no one said anything. Except one older woman, who winked when we got off at the same stop. “Don’t worry, honey, it’s going to get better.”
And it did.
Now the days at work fly by. And coincidentally, our ratings are up since I got back and everyone I work with keeps saying it’s because I am back. I know I’m doing a fluffy show about real estate that nobody can really afford anymore, but I’m doing it well. I can still function.
Sometimes it amazes me how fast the days go by at work. It’s a completely different track than being at home. So it’s refreshing when I get to be back at home with Abe on Fridays and get back into his schedule. The moments with him seem more peaceful, somehow even when they aren’t.
I feel like myself, I feel back to normal. It’s not about the way I look—though at least, I no longer think I look pregnant—it’s the way I feel on the inside. I feel capable. Back at my job, it’s almost easy. I perform the tasks at hand and see results. Everyone talks about mom brain making women dumb, but I think motherhood makes it way easier to multitask. I feel smarter.
And I’m trying to remember that I’m still woman. Mom doesn’t have to be my total identity, just a part of it I really am beginning to enjoy. I’m still breast-feeding, but Abe isn’t on me so much. He is becoming his own person, so I have some personal space. Also I bought a bunch of sexy nursing bras. I thought it was an oxymoron, but I found some good ones. I don’t think I bought them for Steve to see. I bought them for me, to tell my girls that even though they’ve been working hard breast-feeding, I still know what they are all about. I respected that they had their function, but maybe someday they could go back to being fun and feminine and all for me.
Another good thing is that I got back in touch with my best friend, Liz. I feel I’ve lived a lifetime since I hung out with her. It was selfish to pretend that everything going on with me took precedence. I know she had no idea what it was like for me being a new mom, but maybe I needed to try and remember what it was like for her to have lost her best friend.
So Steve and I decided it would be a good idea for everyone if I went up to Boston for the night in a few months. I never used to plan things so far in advance but now I have to. It’s going to be great. I will get to have a girls’ night out with Liz and catch up and have some much-needed alone time, too. Also I think Steve will be happy to have Abe all to himself.
I continue to spend a lot of time with Claudia and Kirsten. I think they are still fighting for my soul, but they both seem to agree lately more than they disagree. As different as they are, they seem to both be moving closer to each oth
er from their opposite extremes. Claudia seems to be caring about things less, and Kirsten seems to caring about things more. In a good way. I really like both of them. And I never expected to. For as long as I lived in New York, I couldn’t make any friends and then I had a baby and suddenly I got two good ones. It was an honor to be invited to Kirsten’s wedding. She asked me to do her makeup, which I did, but she didn’t really need any. She was beaming throughout the whole thing. There was a new confidence about her. She seemed more in control of herself and her life. She seemed to own it.
But the best thing for me about Kirsten’s wedding was the way Steve, Abe and I went and had a great time all together. I forget sometimes that we are now a unit. I guess I think in terms of Abe and me or Steve and me. And being out together as a family was something new. We had a good time. I was nervous that Abe was going to start crying during the ceremony, but when Naomi cried and everyone laughed, I realized that even if he had it wouldn’t have been a big deal. Babies were going to cry, and that was the definition of babies. Mine was just like everyone else’s.
After the wedding, Steve and I were a little tipsy. We tried to get a car home but there was an hour wait at every company we called. We decided to wing it. We went outside and held our hands up to passing yellow cabs, but no one stopped for us. Abe was sleeping in the baby carrier on Steve’s chest. It was a nice night and we decided to walk. I was glad that we hadn’t taken the stroller, because we walked hand in hand through Brooklyn, as if we were newly dating.
It was a long walk from Dumbo to Prospect Heights, but when we got home, I still had butterflies in my stomach. Maybe it was all the sweet romance of Kirsten and David’s wedding. Or maybe it was us. Maybe it was the idea that we had become a family.
“I’ll try to put him down,” Steve said. And I nodded. I didn’t offer any suggestions or warnings. I let him go do it and hoped for the best. I held my breath a little. And when he came out, empty-handed, I almost clapped.
I was sitting on the couch and he came and sat next to me. I rested my head on his shoulder and he took my hand. We sat that way for a while enjoying the quiet and the buzz we both had.