Another little one is coming . . .

We are in the mist of major transitions. We are selling the little one-bedroom we are currently living in and buying a two-bedroom in Manhattan. Both are coops so the process will drag on until early next year. Not a problem for me. In fact, I much prefer the one we are selling to close in April. No doubt it will present a financial drain but we are expecting a little girl in March 07. I am no superwoman who can handle a move, childbirth and recovery, and the incessant demands of a newborn. Especially this time, I expect to weather the challenge with no expectation of help from the in-laws. Granted, my mother-in-law will take care of little Ethan, our 14 month old who would be 18 months then. With all her good intentions, she gives me more mental stress than relief. My best characterization of us is that we are just two women who live in different worlds with different standards and it's best we be kept apart to avoid clashes on important matters like what to feed a newborn - formula or breastmilk. Those who she talks to may be told that she really did want Ethan to be breastfed but all that talk of hers boil me even more because a person should truly be judged by actions. Yes . . . if you haven't figured it out, I have some deep seeded anger that needs to be worked out. My daughter is my chance to do what I wasn't able to accomplish with Ethan . . . I was deferential to my in-laws with the hopes that we maintain a good and long lasting relationship. Besides, I thought at the time when Ethan was born, that my mother-in-law was willing to make the sacrifice of staying with us in our little one-bedroom to help out and to "take care of me". Well, she didn't think very hard about how to take care of a postpartum mother and give her a nutritional diet. I guess like she said, in her days she had nothing much to eat . . . just white rice and vinegar stuff. I was too emotionally challenged and not yet made up my mind to say "hell with what she thinks", go grocery shopping and take back my kitchen. Afterall, my own mother warns about going out in the first month and be exposed to the elements . . . which allegedly would weaken me for the rest of my life. So the opening was there for her to do the Mao Zhe Dong coercion thing on me . . . talk to me everyday about how every women in her village in China did not have enough milk to feed their baby. Granted, each day was a different story about a different woman. How she knows all these private business I dont' know. I was also concerned about the marriage . . . JK is quite deferential to his mother and if I did not try to work things out or try to see from her perspective, I thought my whole life would fall apart. Besides, I loved my marriage and we just had a beautiful child. Only later did I realize that I was losing control over my life in every way . . . and that my life fell apart because I allowed myself to be a prisoner in someone else's world with someone else's idea of being alive.

So in short, I will take good care of myself this time around with all the generous help from family and friends welcomed, but not anyone who comes around to me with "this is how you should eat, drink, and take care of your baby." Kindness of that sort I don't need. To accomplish this, I much prefer to be in my little one-bedroom in Queens, miles away from my in-laws who live in Manhattan.