Purto Vallarta and beyond

The last trip I took before having a baby, while pregnant, was to attend a friend's wedding in Pueto Vallarta, Mexico. The destination was so peaceful but somehow worried spouse and parents added to my stress of traveling pregnant even though my doctor had approved it.  I wanted to enjoy it and relax as much as possible knowing it would be long before I would have the chance to travel so far freely again. I myself was not the same as before anymore. I was responsible for a life within me. I was determined to make the best of the trip though. The pacific ocean and calm enviornment, good weather and food, and seeing old friends reunited, helped a lot. The wedding day arrived. A wedding by the beach. We went and sat on a bench. Three other guests came to sit next to us. All of a sudden the bench broke, or fell down, and we went down with it! Luckily it was not too high and under it was soft sand, but it did not matter. I was in tears, worried about my son. What the hell did I do? What if I lose him or something goes wrong with him? What can I do far from my doctor and home in Mexico? How am I going to live for the rest of my life? I did not understand much of the gorgeous ceremony and beautiful wedding even though my son's movements and kicking was reassuring me he was there, active and happy, like other nights. We went back home. We were grateful for making it safe and for our healthy boy. We regretted not enjoying the pacitifc ocean and wedding as much as possible later on. Above all, I was grateful for my healthy son and being able to carry on with our life and little family.

A month or so later there was a sad news. Sherryl Sandberg's husband passed away unexpectedly. Later we learned they were vacationing in the same exact place we were a month earlier: Purto Vallarta. My memories of being terrified there came back, except this time someone else experienced the worst for real. I felt for her and her family so much. Of all places to face a tragedy in a gorgeous vacation place where you are supposed to relax and make good memories, is hard to swallow.

During the last year, I lost a brother quickly to lung cancer. Two years ago my father passed unexpectedly.  These events affected me deeply specially due to circumstances I was facing each time: I could not care for my father due to long distance and things happening faster than we could process and act on, as well as other limitations posed on me during the hardest time of my life by my employer. I had to make hard choices, and choosing integrity made me pay a very high price of not being there with my dad.  I could not care for my brother because of having to nurse my son, having just returned to work after a few months of maternity leave, and having lost our support for child care all at the same time.  I was left with many what ifs, and what I could have dones, feelings of guilt and anger, but I did carry on with life every day, one day at a time.  Surprisingly, even though losing a sibling is more unexpected than a parent, losing my father has been harder on me. Maybe because I could not see him, or because of a closer bond I had with him, or because of tough choices I had to make during his passing, or maybe my son made it clear where my focus and priority should be as a mother when my brother was passing.

Now, a year after that Purto Vallarta trip, Sherryl Sandberg gave a great graduation speech at Berkley, going over her experience that I could somewhat relate too, though losing a partner and father of your children is harder than I can even imagine. She gave good tips that can guide one cope with such tragedies when they hit. My favorite quote of her there is this: "The easy days ahead of you will be easy. It is the hard days—the times that challenge you to your very core—that will determine who you are. You will be defined not just by what you achieve, but by how you survive".  You can watch her full speech here:

https://www.facebook.com/sheryl/videos/10156847483930177/

Mom Talk

Motherhood: Realizing that one of the most important and vital conversations of your day is about the frequency, size, density, and color of your baby's poo and that you have become one of *those* women!

زابل

امروز صبح در رادیو ملی واشنگتن دی سی‌، گزارشی از خشکسالی در مرز افغانستان و ایران پخش شد. در برنامه با یک پیر مرد زابلی کشاورز مصاحبه شد. صداش در زمینه بود و برگردان انگلیسی روش. از این میگفت که کشاورزی تنها راه در آمدشون هست، که دولت ایران هیچ سرمایه گذاری در آنجا نمیکنه و خشکسالی سالهای متوالی ضربه زیادی به مردم آنجا زده. اینکه هیچ کارخانه ای‌ آنجا نیست. حتی واردات کمی که از افغانستان می‌کردند دیگر امکان پذیر نیست چون دولت مرز رو به خاطر ترافیک مواد مخدر بسته. اینکه رسانه‌های ایران زابل رو خیلی‌ پوشش نمیدهند. و من به این فکر می‌کردم که در تمام مدت زندگی‌ در ایران، هیچ شناخت كافى‌ از زابل و مردمانش نداشتم و هیچ وقت صدای آن‌ هموطنانم را نشنیدم. فقط يك بار سفرنامه اى چاپ كانون پرورش فكرى كودكان و نوجوانان از يك خبر نگار كه به سيستان و بلوچستان رفت بود را خوانده بودم. عكس هاى آن كتاب و آشنايى با شدت فقر آنها و اينكه بچه هاى آنجا چقدر متفاوت از من زندگى ميكردند، من را به شدت تكان داده بود. حالا صبح ، در راه کار، این سر دنیا، صدای این مرد زابلی به گوش من میرسه. راستی‌ پیر مرد میدون صداش رو مردم در آمریکا امروز صبح شنیدند؟ می‌دونه واشینگتن دی سی‌ کجاست؟ اثر این گزارش ٔبر زندگی‌ او چه خواهد بود؟ آیا سفر خبر نگارهای بی‌‌بی‌سی نیوز و ان پی‌ آّر برای تهیه این گزارش باعث توجّه هر چند موقتی به این مردم شده؟