A Mom's Anxiety On Passover

The Jewish high holidays always give me anxiety. Okay, not always—just over the last three-and-a-half years since I became a mom for the first time. I also don’t know about you, but when I did become a mom for the first time, I was neurotic. I mean, I was an understatement to the term "helicopter mom." I hovered over and swarmed my baby like the bachelorettes of the ABC hit show smothering the hunky bachelor of the season.

I love family, and love every minute that my husband and I can spend with our families. But for Jewish holidays, specifically our annual Passover Seders outside of the comfort of our own home, it was something we really needed to prepare for. Diaper bag—check.  Extra clothes—check.  Bottles and formula—check.  Pajamas and monitor—check. Pack and play—maybe. And of course, there’s always something you realize you forgot when it’s too late. There was a reason I call myself a bag lady.

The first part of the Jewish holiday celebrations that boosts my anxiety is that the night starts at a ridiculous hour. I mean, if part of the family goes to synagogue, they aren’t home until after sundown, and by the time you sit down to eat it's like 9pm. Yes, you heard me right, NINE PM—way past my baby’s bedtime. So what are we as parents to do? Hire a nanny for the night? A non-Jewish baby sitter? Yeah, that isn’t going to happen with me. The uptight mom in me says we aren’t going. But the realistic mom in me sucks it up, albeit grudgingly.   

I remember Z’s first Passover at my sister-in-law's parent's house. Not only were there at least thirty people there, dinner didn’t start until well after 8pm. Then when it did begin, baby Z was passed around the room, had a meltdown from being treated as a rag doll, became overtired, and finally when I got the chance to put him down, he would not sleep. So then, you rock him, you swing him in the bucket, you sing, you curse because you don’t have a pack and play. And when I say there were a lot of tears, there were—I'm pretty sure the baby cried, too. All I wanted to do was leave. 

I do blame myself partially, as I guarantee the baby felt how anxious I was and fed on it. I think if I was a little more relaxed about it and didn’t freak out, it probably would have ended up just fine. But for a new mom with a six-month-old baby, you don’t know that. All you know is your routine, the baby’s routine, and how he only sleeps in a crib! How do you deprive your little one of that?

The extremely long night finally ended, and we were able to go home after rushing through dinner (that I could barely touch I was so nervous). And guess what?  Baby Z was FINE. Although he didn’t sleep like he should have, he lived! And while the overtired baby is never a fun baby, he eventually went to bed. And as someone once reminded me, he didn’t remember the next morning. 

That first big family Passover outing is HARD. But I realized it’s manageable. It is not convenient; it may not even be fun. But it’s doable. And I have to remind myself of that year after year.

The overtired baby became the overtired infant the year later, and then the overtired toddler the year after that. Z is now three-and-a-half and thankfully has no problem staying up until 11pm if he needs to—granted as long as an iPad, TV or his cousins are around, so for now my worries with him are over. 

But now I am facing the challenge once more. I have a new baby who will be five months old when Passover starts. I will have to do this all over again, but I can honestly say that I am the complete opposite with T in comparison with Z. I’m not edgy or uneasy, though I am starting to work off of a schedule now. But I have learned over the past few years that as moms, we need to make adjustments and know that no one gets hurt. So for Baby #2, I know not to freak out about the Seder starting at 9pm, I know that he may or may not have a good sleep, and I know that noise is good for babies! I still don’t love having to do this, but I also won’t miss being with my family and celebrating our religion and our traditions. 

Happy Passover, and I wish all you new moms (and myself) the best of luck!