Birthing Eyes

Occasionally I am just too tired to be a good mom, and it bites me in the butt later.

For example, when I started my new job and the days were so long, I had to sit and do nothing but hold my babies when I got home. Some how Quinn and I got in the habit of watching Glee reruns everyday. She liked the singing and dancing, and so it happen. Sue me. But then we watched (and fell in love with) the season finale, and this innocent little lazy mom slip up became a problem.

Quinn was obsessed with the scene where the character (whose name happens to also be Quinn) has a baby complete with screaming and pushing choreographed to Bohemian Rhapsody. Very intense, and my Quinn would ask to see it over and over again. Sometimes as a mom I just miss it. I didn't get it. I thought she liked the dancing. But turns out that Quinn likes to repeatedly re-watch things that scare her to death. I didn't understand this because I have the opposite reaction. The other night I forbid Tim to watch a special on David Blane because magic (unless written by J.K.) scares me and gives me nightmares. If someone even jokes that there will be "sawing a woman in half," (even if it were on Sesame Street), I would undoubtedly leave the room. So, anyway, I thought Quinn was interested in birth, and it turns out that this very mature scene scared and confused her. We weened the show out of our activity repertoire, and I tried to be a better mom after that.

So, the story continues. I am pregnant and really sick, and all I want to do in the evenings is sit and watch TV. I rented a moving on AppleTV last night, and I remembered that Tim bought me the movie, "The Business of Being Born" on our AppleTV when I was pregnant with McKenna. I thought it would be relaxing to watch, and there might be some parts that Quinn could watch to learn about mommies and babies.

She said, "What's this?" And I said, "Oh, look, see that is a mommy with a baby in her tummy, and she is going to have the baby soon. This is a movie about mommies having babies."
She said, "I want to watch it. Where did the mommy go! I want to watch the mommy and the baby (as the film goes on to lots of other topics and visuals.)

I finally started fast forwarding until said mommy was having her water birth. "I want to see the baby in the mommy's tummy!! That baby is on the outside."
I said, "I know. But didn't you see that baby just came out of that mommy's vagina. That is the baby that was in her tummy. Cool!" We watched a few more time, but the view was obstructed by the water in the tub.
Quinn said, "No, mommy, I want to see a mommy crying on a bed with a baby in her tummy!"

Oh, dear, if you have seen the documentary in question, you would know that this quote from Quinn would have made a great talking point for the film. But, I digress.

So, then I explained to Quinn that Mommy's screaming on a bed is pretend on TV, but these mommies are real on TV. She watched a few more births and seems to get really into it. I thought it was fine because her eyes were not wide and silent like with Glee, they were big and bright with energy and learning. (Ah, the ideal thoughts of a young mom.)

Then I said out of the blue, "Quinn do you want to see mommy having a baby come out of her tummy? Do you want to see McKenna come out of mommy's vagina?" I pulled out the iPhoto and looked for the video, which I had tastefully hidden and never watched all the way through. (I was grateful to have it, but not quite "there" yet.) We watched the video, and Quinn seemed excited to see that it was in fact mommy and daddy in the video. I sat there fascinated and excited, because, like I said, I had not seen it before. I thought it was such a miracle that when the baby came out ... in that very first moment ... it was so obviously my McKenna. I was really touched. I turned to Quinn, and I said, "Do you wanted to watch it again." (Since we have basically never seen anything once in our house.) She would not have even needed to speak because her eyes (3 year old eyes that have seen a little too much) said it all. She looked at me and so politely said, "No, thanks, that's yucks." (Or something to that effect.)