BETA BABY
When (M and) I got pregnant for the first time, we were neck deep in the tech start-up world. A couple of twenty somethings all-in on the O.G. “fake it ‘til you make it” internet boom. This boondoggle world was a time when slides and firepoles were frequent office space conveyances, and when Fridays involved an open tap on the requisite retro beer fridge. On the flip side, 110-hour work weeks were the norm, with company financers routinely pointing out that “in Silicon valley they are sleeping under their desks”…like it was a good thing. M was living on planes – between offices in three countries and around the world for sales meetings (this was before carbon footprints or video conferencing were “a thing”).
Against this backdrop, we decided to add a new product to the mix: the Beta Baby.
Like many HilarWithUs Stories, the Beta Baby product launch Started Out Badly.™ [1] It was a perfect storm of overestimation (of my abilities) and underestimation (of the abilities I would be required to have). Having worked up to the very last minute of my term, I didn’t crack the spine on What to Expect When You Are Expecting until day 279 (of 280). We managed to get to a handful of prenatal classes, but not enough to learn either the signs of labour onset or to drive the route to the hospital at least once before the ‘Big Day’. Predictably, we waited too long to leave for the hospital and then got lost on the way there. So, Beta Baby almost arrived in the parking lot, and certainly did not follow the product roll-out prescribed in the “Birthing Plan” (#asif, #notgonnahappen).
Despite our lack of quality control, Beta Baby arrived perfect in every way. At least until we got our hands on her. I had no friends with children, mother/m-in-laws who had blocked out all memory of their children before the ages of 22, and a lifelong aversion to heeding advice. I knew so little, that I didn’t even know what I didn’t know. Within the first few months I warped her head (she had to wear the helmet of parental shame), gave her an 10x dose of amoxicillin (took care of that ear infection overnight!), flipped her out of the infant car seat onto her unformed noggin (turns out the handle unlocks), and didn’t know about reflux (thought all babies projectile-barfed ten times a day). And these were just the occasions that required medical assistance.[1] It’s a miracle Beta Baby turned out so well (IMHO).
This inauspicious start was followed by 20+ years (and counting) of applying the start-up approach to parenting: start with a heavy helping of “clever idea”, add tons of long hours, layer of some luck, and finish with a dash of requisite BS-ing your way through stuff. Most importantly, be prepared to make (many) mistakes. But hopefully learn and grow from them.
I chalk our trail-by-error Beta Baby experience to “leading by example.” When H escaped from under my not-so-protective wing, my letter to her encouraged her to be okay with failing on occasion. Dubious Moma quote: “Fail. Make mistakes. Mess up. [Side note: Try not to make mistakes that result in a trip to the ER, but if you do…call me…I have your back…I am your lifelong Emerge buddy (whether you like it or not)]. The important thing is to be okay with trying and failing, and also to be open to learning and changing. Don’t just fail and say “Rats. I failed. I suck.” Messing up is an Opportunity to learn, improve and grow. People always talk about “growing up” but what’s with the “up”?? Live, love, laugh and, also fail, falter, and f—k up...and as a result GROW.”
Making mistakes, in my experience, is a good thing (which is fortunate because it is also unavoidable). The reason I know this? Because Beta Baby - and her sisters, and all the other miraculous things in our lives - was the result of TONS of messing up. And while it would have been nice to have an epidural at least one of the times, we did manage to learn the route to the hospital.
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[1] Kidding/not kidding about the trademark. Always be Branding…
[2] No need to call Children’s Aid. You are a couple decades years too late.