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ASKING FOR HELP

by Lesley Miller

There came a moment in my second pregnancy when people at the grocery store started wincing as soon as I walked through the double doors. Unfortunately, this moment did not come at the nine-month-and-three-days mark, or even at the eight-month mark. This was one of those classic second pregnancies where I started getting pudgy about two days after conception. At seven months along strangers routinely asked if I was having twins, and everyone seemed to ask, “Any day now?”

Apparently people still have not learned how to just nicely say, “You are glowing, and I am so happy for your growing family.” But that’s another conversation for another day.

On one particular afternoon in the Trader Joe’s checkout aisle, as my almost-two-year-old was pulling gum and candy off the shelves, I made a wonderful mistake. When the bagger asked if I wanted help to the car, words came out of my mouth that never had before.

“Yeahhh,” I said hesitantly, followed by something like, “but are you sure?”

The guy looked at me with great concern, as if my water might break any moment and a child could burst forth if he didn’t help. Then he said, “Absolutely. I’d love a chance to get outside.”

I’m not sure why, but until that moment I believed that accepting help to the car was a privilege reserved for those truly in need. The blind. The elderly. Bomb victims. I was strong and my legs worked fine. Never mind that I had a squirming two-year-old rifling through the bags. Never mind that my belly was bigger than Africa. Never mind that it was almost a hundred degrees in their crowded, horrible, terrifying parking lot where impatient people lose their minds waiting for the slow pregnant lady to load up her toddler, eggs, and twelve varieties of ice cream.

I guess . . . I suppose . . . some help might be nice. Just today.

It felt odd to watch someone else push my cart to the car, and it was even weirder to have him stack my groceries in the trunk with no expectation for a tip. I think he asked when the baby was due, and I told him probably never. When I thanked him—and I was so thankful—he said it was his pleasure.

As I drove home that day, I couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it all felt. I didn’t even have to waddle the cart back to the stack while my little one sat in a hot car. By the time I pulled into my driveway, I was wondering why the checkout boy hadn’t offered to come home and carry those groceries into my kitchen. Receiving that offer of help felt so good—so necessary.

Why had I said no to help my entire life?

To no one’s surprise, I delivered a huge, almost ten-pound baby boy later that summer. Technically, he was the combined weight of many twin births, so I suppose all those strangers’ comments were accurate. Even though I’m not pregnant anymore (and I’m not blind or using crutches either), I’ve been enthusiastically accepting help to my car every time we visit a grocery store. When it comes to receiving help, I’ve replaced “Are you sure?” with “Absolutely. Yes.” And now, after a rather embarrassing incident involving one of my children throwing an entire carton of blueberries in the parking lot, I’ve taken an even bigger step. If no one offers to help me, I often ask.

This revolution has gone beyond the grocery store. In the newborn days, when I was sleep deprived and angry, I asked my mom to watch the kids so I could be alone for a few hours to take care of myself. When my son wasn’t talking very much at eighteen months, I called a speech therapist for a free evaluation. When my kids both woke up vomiting, I texted my neighbors and asked them to bring over provisions like applesauce, Pedialyte, and carpet cleaner. These requests may sound like no-brainers to some, but they were big, humbling moments for me. I like feeling strong, and I take pride in my independence. I don’t usually ask for help, even when I’m desperate. And I don’t think I’m alone in this.

Are you feeling desperate today?

There’s something you need to know. You are not weak if you need backup. You aren’t needy if you ask your husband to take a late-night diaper change. You are not lazy if you ask grandparents to watch the kids sometimes, or if you hire a housecleaner because you barely have time to bathe yourself, let alone scrub the tile. Mothers—whether we stay at home, work from home, work full time or work overtime—are managing a whole lot of crazy. And sometimes we need help.

As I began recognizing my own needs, a very special thing happened: I also started noticing others’ needs in a way I hadn’t before. The more I’ve said yes to help, the better I’ve become at offering it to others. When my girlfriend’s husband was out of town for the week, I offered to babysit her kids so she could go grocery shopping. When a woman from church mentioned a particularly long week at work, we dropped off takeout. A beautiful, natural give-and-take happens when we humbly let down our guard and help each other.

So start saying yes in the grocery store line. Start asking for a hand when yours are full. And please stop telling yourself you need to have it all together, because none of us do. Isn’t that freeing?

There’s still a lot about motherhood I haven’t figured out, but I do know this: we cannot journey alone.

A BEAUTIFUL, NATURAL, GIVE AND TAKE HAPPENS WHEN WE humbly LET DOWN OUR GUARD AND HELP EACH OTHER.