A new mother stumbles into the art of letting go
By: Lily C. Fen
Tags: Summer, Barbecue, New Mothers, Motherhood, Letting Go

Twenty-eight people had shown up to our Baby Meet & Greet, and one mama asked me that afternoon, “So how is it going, juggling a six-month old and so much of us to entertain?”

I paused and millions of answers ran through my head. I selected one that felt weighty to me. “It teaches me about letting go.”

Many to-do’s were awaiting my attention that afternoon, being the obsessive-compulsive host that I was — light the candles, offer everyone meat for the barbecue, bring down milk for someone’s coffee, greet people arriving, get baby’s napping and nursing done on schedule.

I needed to be kind to baby — how was I going to manage everything else?

After the initial excitement of inviting everyone on a Doodle two months earlier, some thoughts began to dawn on me as weeks passed. Why had I signed up for this party voluntarily? No one had asked to come. I had invited them!

Realizing how overwhelmed I would be as the day loomed closer, I enlisted help. I asked one of baby’s godmothers to show up an hour early so we could at least unfurl tablecloths and put up signs leading to the backyard.

More help came in unexpected ways.

Our neighbor from across the hallway asked if we needed help moving the tables and benches onto the yard. We did! While I cared for baby and sorted out smaller items to bring to the garden, he and hubby hauled heavy furniture out onto the grass.

They call it “bayanihan” in Filipino: people coming together to contribute to build something bigger than themselves. Like this barbecue we had!

Later, one couple reported that our Grill Master, that very same neighbor, had taken care of everyone, always with something fresh off the barbecue for anyone. And when sausages disappeared off of plates, he went around asking if anyone wanted a cup of coffee. He brought down a steaming thermos of the fragrant, black stuff to the yard and poured out some for the women I had written a book with several years ago. I hadn’t asked, but this man who lived across from us had gone above and beyond for hubby, baby, and I. The garden furniture was his.

Photo Credit goes to Julia and Michal for this one

Much of hubby’s and my planned summer skewers remained unprepared, the ingredients (olives, bread and cheese; melon and ham) languishing in the kitchen. Between baby’s naps on my lap that morning and everyone arriving, all I had managed to put together was one plate of antipasti-on-a-stick.

I had asked everyone to bring food instead of gifts. They brought both instead!

By the time baby and I had come back down to the yard, everyone had eaten. I then realized, to my dismay, that shelves of marinated meat we had bought for the grill were wasting away in the fridge, untouched.

Getting this barbecue to happen was teaching me about letting go. As a new mother, I could not attend to everyone. I could not make eleven perfect dishes or refill everyone’s glasses the way I used to as a host, before baby.

I suppose I should just enjoy all of it — a party of twenty-eight people in the age of CoVid was a feat unto itself, yet still within bounds of virus safety restrictions. We had a backyard, every guest could enjoy the summer weather. Hubby and I were celebrating turning forty — albeit belated, due to the outbreak. Best of all, we had gathered together in thanksgiving for the son for whom we had waited nearly a decade.

I probably won’t invite as many people for baby’s first birthday. This barbecue had me retreating up to our bedroom to strip off a pretty but non-breastfeeding-friendly dress whenever I had to nurse baby and get him down for his naps. Never again.

Everyone had been kind and had lent me understanding when it came to baby’s needs. But I had to let go of the citronella candles I couldn’t light myself, let go of the self that wanted to refill every guest’s glass with more champagne or beer or soda.

As I pondered how to conclude this article, I hit upon another mama lesson. With baby at six months, this was only the beginning. Letting go as a mother will be a journey, with various depths and difficulties. There will be releasing him off to school. Accepting him getting used to his friends and academic life. Letting him make mistakes so that he can learn with gravity. Allowing him to fall, on occasion, so that one day, he can fly.

Having a baby is an ever-changing river, every moment filled with lessons, every event asking me to choose the top three priorities and let go of the small stuff.

What about you? What have you had to learn to let go?