This past Saturday, we had friends come over for a play date. The mom is
a little older than I and she too has twin daughters slightly older than my
girls. Once they warmed up, the kids and
the moms had a lovely afternoon. During
the course of our chat, the mom and I eventually shared our stories. She told me that her family had not been at
all supportive when she told them she was embarking on the journey to solo
motherhood. She went through a long arduous process wrought with ups and downs
hormones and frustration on her own. My heart ached for what she went through;
especially because I had been there. I wished I had known her then so I
could’ve been there for her.
She then asked me if my family was supportive all along. Although I have been asked this question many
times before, this time a light bulb went off (on?) and I was able to give my
family a huge "like". Other than an initial conversation with my mom
that was mostly a Q&A session with silly questions like "why would you
want to have a baby?" and "do you think you can handle the
responsibility?" she was completely supportive. My dad, who is usually kept out of these sorts
of discussions in our house, once confronted, not only gave his blessing but
showed love and support in a way I had never seen before. I had no doubt that my mom would be behind
me, she always has been no matter what.
She is that kind of mom. My dad
has always been far more critical. He is also of a generation that doesn’t really
get the ways of 2012. He is far more traditional, although ironically, his own
life has been one of "off the beaten path" as well.
Lest you think the support ends there, my family lives in the
neighborhood I grew up in. When we moved there I was 12 and about 75% of the
families were Jewish of which 50% were observant. Today, the neighborhood is mostly observant,
even black hat (hareidi) and it is very common to see the bathrobe/snood set
walking around on shabat followed by four to six kids…you get the picture.
Once I decided that I was going forward with my decision, I gave very
little thought to my parents' circle or the people of the 'hood. I live 10,000 miles away. My community is very diverse, modern and open
minded. My synagogue is orthodox as well
but we have gays and straights, marrieds and singles, more observant and
slightly less observant members.
Egalitarianism is greatly respected.
The women in our shul (synagogue) actively participate.
The year my girls were born we went to Chicago for the holidays. I really didn’t think about how my presence
with two kids no husband or head covering would be perceived. People knew, my
dad, the now great supporter had thrown a kidush (party in synagogue) in the
girls' honor. What completely awed me
was my former elementary school principal's reaction. This is a man who I have always believed to
be one of the lamed vavnikim. (36 great righteous men). I have always admired and respected him
greatly. I had asked him to make a
bracha (blessing) at my wedding and when he agreed to my request he told me
that he rarely accepts this sort of invitation since if he did he would likely
be at a wedding or two or three daily, but in my case he made an exception,
although I don’t know why. I am hardly a paragon of virtue or religious observance. One of the heartbreaks of my marriage falling
apart was the shame that this man had blessed me and I was letting him down.
In any event, fast forward to the day in question, a Saturday afternoon,
August 2010. It is shabat afternoon. All
my mother's friends have come by to see the babies. A knock on the door. My rabbi's wife!!!!
Now, the Mrs. is a woman that I have always greatly admired and
respected as well as her husband but in a completely different way. Any of you who have grown up in a strictly
orthodox community know that one of the cornerstones is the cookie cutter
quality. The Mrs. Was anything but.
Intellectual, attractive, outspoken. She always dressed appropriately
but fashion forward and cool. Her wig
was cool, she never looked dowdy, frumpy, or well…cookie cutter. She always had something to say and it was
always intelligent, thought provoking and slightly different from the template
responses of the community which I found, even as a teenager, to be stifling.
So here she is, standing in our doorway.
Coming to wish me mazal tov from her AND THE RABBI!!!!!!!!
So yes, I have a life of honey.
G-d has blessed me in so many ways.
I have amazing parents who have always been supportive and
"there". My extended family
and friends too, have been loyal, loving and have taught me many important life
lessons.
My community here in Tel Aviv; I cannot say enough about the support
they offered after my girls were born; meals and groceries brought to my
door. Challot and visits to the
hospital, which was a distance from where we all live. When they found out I was staying at a hotel
in the hospital on shabatot to be near my kids (I don’t drive on the sabath),
they chipped in and paid for a weekend.
Yes, I have a life of honey.
It has taken me a long time to appreciate my parents. I must admit for a
long time I had a sense of entitlement that is something most children have and
outgrow but this child took longer than most.
I am blessed. Hashem (G-d) has given me two gifts and because of them, in
three short years, I have grown and stretched and dug deep to become a better
person and someone they can hopefully, look up to and respect.
Maybe the July heat is getting to me; those who know me well know I
don’t generally gush. I want to thank all those near (and far) and dear that
your support and kindnesses are NOT givens. I don’t know what I have done to
deserve the outpouring of benevolence but you have inspired me and humbled me.
Thank you.www.andbabymakes2.co.ilhttp://andbabymakes2.co.il
I could have written something very similar to this. I found that religious people's reactions to my choice to have a baby on my own were often more accepting that others. They btotally understand the importance fo becoming a mother (for most women).
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