So humans are born earlier than would be reasonable in other parts of the animal kingdom, with the assumption that their mother will be tending to their needs 24/7. The bond between a mother and a baby is critical for the survival of the newborn, so the instinct to be close at all times is a good one. If mothers did not feel this instinct, the human race would not continue.
Angeni liked to educate her followers about how this intense connection doesn’t just apply to the baby’s first few months of life, but also to the first fewyears. In her “Ask me anything” stories, so many people inquired about Angeni’s plans to have another child, and she always took this as an opportunity to explain that true infancy is a three-year process, so she would wait three years before considering adding another child to their family. She did feel like another soul, a boy this time, was calling her to be his mother, but these first three years of Freya’s life would only be dedicated to Freya. If more parents operated with this mentality, more children would receive the care and attention they needed to thrive. If more people followed Angeni’s teachings, the world would be a better place.
The response to this particular post was especially enthusiastic, which signaled to Angeni that she had again uncovered something about modern motherhood that required collective attention.
Omg preach. I am so sick of people telling me I need to chill out and take time away from the baby. IWant to Be With My Baby
Was literally just telling my husband this. Our baby is two months old and he thinks we should start day care
tbh I think moms whoWantto be away from their babies are the ones society should be worrying about
my friend is going back to work next week and her baby is only 3 months old. I don’t get it and am so happy I get to stay home
It was responses like these that eased Angeni’s occasional imposter syndrome and assured her that, yes, she did have every right and reason to write a book. Angeni had a lengthy phone call with the reputableliterary agent, Elizabeth Conroy, during which Elizabeth showered Angeni with praise that made her whole body feel warm, the hairs on her arms standing on end in excited anticipation. Angeni signed a contract with Elizabeth’s agency the next day. “You are going to be huge,” the agent said. “You already are huge. But this will be a whole new level.”
Angeni had assumed she’d need to write a book proposal. In the past, when she’d toyed with the idea of writing a book, her Google research had informed her that a comprehensive proposal was the first step. Elizabeth said that wouldn’t be necessary. Just two days later, there was a bidding war between two major publishers. All Elizabeth had to do was show them how many followers Angeni had between her personal account, the Conscious Couples account, and the Mother Nurture account. This was how the publishing industry worked these days, Elizabeth explained. The two publishers threw out six-figure offers like they were nothing. After a round of intense negotiations, Angeni accepted the slightly higher bid of $200,000. They told her she could have a year to write the book, which seemed like both an eternity and no time at all.
It had been gnawing at her how she’d been so adamant about having all her attention on Freya for the first three precious years. She had instructed herself not to commit to any major work projects during those years.
The night before, lying in bed next to Erik, she’d asked him, “Am I betraying myself? Am I betraying Freya?”
“I think you would be betraying all of us if you didn’t write this book,” he’d said.
She hadn’t thought of it that way.
“Sometimes, life gives us opportunities that we did not expect. Spirit works through us in ways we could not imagine,” he’d said.
“Freya won’t remember this time,” he’d said.
She never understood parents who said that—She won’t even remember this. The body carried memories that the brain did not.Would Freya feel her mother’s divided attention, her dedication to something other than mothering? Erik wouldn’t understand these kinds of concerns, so she didn’t bother talking through them. She had to reason this out with herself.
“Think about how the universe brought us Sitka,” he’d said. “We didn’t expect that either. And look how beautiful it’s been to have her here. Maybe the whole reason for Sitka coming to us was to support you during this time of creative production.”
“Maybe.”
Spirit had a way of doing this—bringing you what you needed before you knew you needed it. It was often only in retrospect that you saw the magic.
She needed to discuss a formal plan with Sitka for Freya’s care while the book was in progress. They needed a structure that would feel right to all of them—Angeni, Freya, and Sitka.
They were in the kitchen together now, the three of them plus Aurora. Angeni was starting a batch of chicken-liver pâté for Freya. She put the chicken liver in a pot of bone broth and turned up the heat to a simmer. When it was cooked through, she would add raw butter and a pinch of sea salt before putting everything in the blender, then pouring the mixture into tiny glass jars to store in the fridge.
Whenever she posted these meals, she got a slew of comments from people likegrossandyou feed that to your kid?andI highly doubt your baby eats that. Her babydideat it, though—not enthusiastically at first, but she ate it. And that was because Angeni was smart and intentional about how she introduced foods to Freya. She was focused on foods to help Freya’s brain develop and give her a healthy microbiome and set her up for a lifetime of healthy eating. She had no plans to introduce anything sweeter than a yam for several months. This was a mistakemost parents made. They gave their babies fruits and yogurts and then were mystified later when they refused to eat broccoli and chicken.
“I’m thinking I should include some recipes in the book,” Angeni said.
Freya was in her bouncer on the floor. It was more of an activity center than a bouncer, the seat surrounded by various things to capture her attention—a spinning butterfly, an elephant rattle, a turtle mirror, a frog that lit up. Angeni worried it was too much stimulation, that it would wire her brain to crave increasingly higher levels of excitement, chasing the dopamine dragon like the brains of so many other small children. But it was a gift from Matt, and she felt awful not using it. He didn’t have a lot of money, but a simple Google search told her he’d spent nearly a hundred dollars on this toy contraption. So she let Freya sit in it for about a half hour a day, max. It was obvious she liked it, which was both heartwarming and unsettling.
“Recipes would be such a nice touch,” Aurora said.
“I’ll have to ask my agent what she thinks.”
“I mean, that’s what you’re about, right?Nurturing.Emotionally and physically,” Aurora said.
Aurora knew her well, but she would always be a cheerleader, never a critic. Angeni turned to Sitka to seek her opinion.
“Sitka, what do you think?”
“About what?” she said.
