I remember first hearing the term “the village” back in my mid 20s when I was working in corporate sales for the first time.  A colleague of mine, who had twin girls around 6 years old, used to joke about how she would be lost without her “village”: mothers, fathers, caregivers, friends who lived in her community that all contributed in some way to the upbringing of her children.  I didn’t fully understand what that meant at the time, but it always stuck with me.

Fast forward nearly 10 years later and here I am, planning for my return to work after spending 10 months off with baby H.  I have just started part-time work, easing into full time by early May.  I’m so excited to get back into it, however, this past month has been overwhelming and stressful as I research, interview and learn as much as I can about childcare options in Toronto (more on this in a future post!).

It slowly dawned on me yesterday:  Christian and I are only starting to build Harrison’s village now.  This year has been about building MY village as a new mother.  And let me tell you, it takes a VILLAGE to raise a mother.

Last week, I enjoyed a night out with 7 amazing women.  As I sipped my wine and looked around the table, I realized that I did not know anyone sitting with me just one short year ago.  They were strangers on my street, nameless neighbors that I might pass by en route home after a long day at work or nod to while driving by on an errand.  Now, they are part of my village, and I call them my friends.

It would take me thousands of words to honor each member of my village…but I would like to at least try to illustrate the diversity of people who have touched my life throughout my motherhood journey so far.  The most incredible part, to me, is that support and encouragement can come from everywhere: you just need to accept it.

It’s the new mom across the street who, although I barely knew her, gave me confidence right before I was reluctantly induced into labor as she shared her birth story with me.  We were basically strangers.  Now we get together at least once a week for coffee chats and walks.  She constantly brings us food and goodies.  I recently attended her daughters first birthday and felt like an extension of her family.

It’s my uber-prepared friend who researched EVERYTHING to do with pregnancy, baby, child-rearing, car seat safety, weaning, airplane travel and RESPs.  She had her baby first, and then passed down each and every tid-bit of information (and baby stuff!) she could possibly think of.  She has been and continues to be an amazing resource, and is the reason that we made the decision to put H in cloth diapers (when I vowed I would NEVER use cloth diapers.  Never say never).

It’s my own mum, who flew from Vancouver one week after Harrison was born and moved in with us for an entire MONTH.  My husband was a bit skeptical about having his mother-in-law move in for that long, but we were all sad to see her leave by the end.  She was amazing at keeping me on track and helping me figure out a routine.  Every morning by 10am she would say to me (in her precious Irish accent): “Right…what’s for dinner tonight?”.  Dinner!?  I haven’t even showered yet!  But she helped start a habit that has since evolved into regular weekly meal planning for our family.

It’s the free-spirited woman down the street who was out walking with her daughter, saw me walking Harrison at barely a month old, and literally doubled back out of her way to introduce herself.  Although she claims to be an introvert, she made the first move to say “hi” and we’ve had many a play date ever since.  Her daughter has a grin that makes my heart melt.

Through her I met another amazing woman, who makes the best darned macchiato anyone could ask for.  And let’s be serious: coffee IS the way to a mothers heart.  The first time we got together we talked and talked like old friends. She is kind and generous and makes me LAUGH.

It’s my mother-in-law, who will drive 1.5 hours just to spend an afternoon with her grandson.  We have had many a lunch date, cups of tea, chats and great visits – I will miss this quality time with “nana” once I’m back to work full-time!  Her texts, emails and words of encouragement have helped to build up my confidence as a mom.

It’s my husbands’ cousin, who I now know at such a more meaningful level than I ever did before.  She is a mother of two and is in the process of building a coaching business targeted towards new mothers.  Her wisdom, encouragement, and ability to challenge has forced me to continue to carve out time to be MELISSA.  Not mother. Not wife.  Not employee. ME.

There’s the woman with school-aged kids who runs a part-time home daycare down the street.  Her 6-year old daughter loves children so much you just know she got it from her mom!  There is something so comforting about knowing that just down the street you have someone who will take care of your child as though they were her own.  She currently looks after Harrison one day a week while I begin my transition back to work.

And across the street, another mother of two who has boundless stories and tips to share.  She has loaned me books on baby-led weaning, sent me links, recipes, left zucchini chocolate cake on my doorstep when I had a rough day (yes!  on my doorstep!).  And she has this incredible aura that I can’t describe: I feel calm when I’m around her.

It’s my “Innovation Girls” who I met at a conference a few years ago.  6 weeks post-partum, they arrived at our home, took over our kitchen, and made us the most glorious home-made pasta dish.  It was the BEST gift.  (Ok, so maybe coffee AND pasta are the way to a mothers heart).

It’s my father-in-law and “Bonus mom” (as I refer to his partner!) – they have stepped into the grandparent role with so much zeal.  Finding excuses to pop by, bring gifts, food, get together’s, babysitting…anything for more quality time with H!   The joy that they show when they see him is nothing short of heart-warming.  If we haven’t seen them in a few weeks, I can expect a call or email asking for the next “Harrison fix”.

It’s my bonus-mom’s co-worker, whom I have NEVER met, who offered us all the hand-me-downs from her children.  My in-laws literally showed up with bins upon bins of clothes for H.  He’s set until age 2.

It’s my friend who is a mother of two and trained sleep coach, who worked with me in the summer to move baby H towards a regular daytime and nighttime sleep schedule.  She has incredible advice and is extremely passionate about constantly evolving as a mother – she researches, attends workshops, and does all she can to continually improve – it’s very inspiring.  (More on sleep training in a future post as well – I owe this woman my mental sanity).

It’s my sister, who visited in the summer to spend a week with her new nephew.  She sang, and sang and sang and sang some more.  He loved to listen to her sing.  Kokamo has become an instant classic in our home after her visit.

It’s my hometown mom friends: I may not see them often, but our messenger chat group is constant: support, frustrations, questions, bitching, hilarious photos, videos and comics.  I’m so thankful for these virtual touch points.  And there is power in threes!  If one of us is having a rough day, chances are at least 1 out of the other 2 is having a good day and can help offer encouragement.  Or at least a virtual photo of a glass of wine.

It’s my church: the overwhelming support, love, messages, cards, gifts and advice.  So much mom and family wisdom in my church community.  I’m basically covered until H heads to college.

Finally: my husband. Of course he’s part of my village.  Having a child together changed our marriage more than we could ever have imagined.  We had our ups and downs.  And believe me, there were moments when we wanted to kick each other OUT of the village all together.  But we didn’t.  We figured it out together.  Christian has encouraged me and supported me as best as he could while concurrently determining his “new normal” as a husband and father.

And it doesn’t end there.  I could go on and on and on.  The smiles. The encouragement.  The freezer meals. The sharing.  The texts. The advice. The gifts. The support.  How incredibly lucky am I to have been building my own village on top of such a rock-solid foundation.

Whether your village is 2 people or 20, young or old, near or far, it doesn’t matter.  Build it.  Because becoming a mother is crazy journey, and you’re going to need all the help you can get.  It takes a village to raise a mother.

Thank you to my village.

[Photo credit: Sweet Grace Photography]