Pokeno Sisterhood
IT WAS 1990 and a bunch of new moms gathered in a classroom inside a portable building in the parking lot of St. Tammany Parish Hospital. The women came from different backgrounds and different life experiences. But they had one thing in common. They’d put their careers on hold to be fulltime moms, and they were looking for support in their journey. For me, the past three years had been a series of fertility struggles and treatments, one miscarriage, a successful pregnancy, and a harrowing delivery. I’d devoured every parenting book I could find, obsessively documented my pregnancy, said “goodbye” to my newspaper career and finally, finally— FINALLY was ready to live my dream. I’d wanted to be a mom, since I was a kid. Now, I had this glorious creature and no clue how to care for her. Of course, being the eleventh child in my family, I’d been helping with my nieces and nephews since I was seven. That was dress rehearsal, though. This was the real deal. I was 30 with far too much time on my hands and overthinking everything. I’d lay our Haley O’Hara in her crib and then stand over 32
Inside Northside
Three Decades of Love, Laughter, and Support
her whispering affirmations in her ear while she slept. I’d jump up multiple times a night because, what if she stopped breathing? I called 911 once because she was choking—on water. And I spent way too much time gazing at myself in the mirror to see how great I looked finally holding a baby. When my poor husband came home at night, I fairly tackled him I was so starved for adult conversation. And I vaguely remember cornering the UPS guy and subjecting him to every detail of my labor and delivery. I kept telling myself how lucky I was, how many women would love to have the option of fulltime mommyhood. How dare I not be 100 percent happy? How dare I not love every minute of this dream I’d had for decades? How dare I feel lonely, overwhelmed, insecure and inadequate for this thing women have been doing for millennia? I needed perspective. I needed someone who understood what I was going through. I needed mom friends. I found all of that and so much more at The Parenting Center of West St. Tammany. I remember sitting in the parking lot waiting for them to open
photo: CANDRA GEORGE mycreativereality.com
by Mimi Greenwood Knight
