When I left the states for Madrid in September it was different than any other time before. Normally leaving is as easy as pie.  I pack up my suitcase, head to JFK and ya está. What was different was now there was a new addition to my family, miss Margo.

On the plane, instead of losing myself in the movie choices, or sleeping comfortably against the window, I was consumed with thoughts of all that I would be missing while I was away. It also didn’t help that my family confirmed my fear by saying things like, “you won’t recognize her when you get back” or  ‘she’ll be so big and so different. ” I went through many stages over the last three months in Madrid: guilt for not being around, guilt for not knowing how to help my sister, and then, something changed. I stopped feeling the pressures I felt from my family and concentrated on myself.  Was I upset I wasn’t around to see Margo’s first Jewish holiday, Halloween, her move from formula to peas, and most recently her smiles and weird noises, yes. But that didn’t mean I should punish myself for it. Finally after a couple months back in Madrid, my life returned to normal – and I no longer felt bad for living my own life over the ocean. Call me crazy, but I found it easier to accept that I wasn’t around than dwelling on it. Great! Progress.

Progress is an interesting action. There are times in life when one moves forward and continues in this direction and then there are other times when progress comes to a halt, moves backwards, forwards, wades in the water, shuts down, or get restarted. Obviously there are many different areas where one can progress: career, emotional, individual, personal, etc., but no matter what box it fits into – its trajectory is uncertain.

So here I am in Madrid, feeling great! I’ve had SKYPE dates with Margo, heard all the stories about her refusing to eat peas unless my sister dances in front of her for seven minutes, and seen pictures of her smiling, sitting up, you name it. Progress. I’ve found ways to incorporate her existence into my life and continue on as before. Great! So what’s the issue? Now I’m headed back to the states for three months. Why is it that every time I get settled in one place it’s time to pick up again? Restart myself. Okay, you could say, “well, Cynthia, it’s because you live in two places.” True, I won’t argue with that – but I’m still not convinced. Normally when I go back it takes some readjustment time. There’s culture shock but also the realization that although the buildings, museums, etc., may have stayed the same, the people in my life may have changed. When I get back to New York, I fall into my routine – with my friends, nothing is amiss. But with my family, it’s different. The fact that I’ve been gone for three months is palpable. Again, I restart the progress machine and by the end of my time in the states all is back to “normal.”

Restarting the Margo machine

What’s the point? Well, I’m wondering how you start the progress machine with a baby. Margo is little – well, I guess not as little as before – but still smaller than an ottoman. What I’m trying to say is that by the end of this coming three-month stint in the states, will she even know who I am. And if she does recognize my scent and voice by the time I leave – is that enough. How is there progress if there is no communication?  How much harder is it going to be to restart the Margo machine the next time I’m back if I can’t even get it off the ground? At least with my family and friends we already know each other, so after pressing play, things fall into place.

Can you tell I’m a bit nervous to go back to the states this time? Nervous because I know when I go back the little one is going to make me question, all over again, the reason why I don’t live closer to my family. I’ll most likely go through the same stages as above when it comes time for me to leave again, and then I have to begin the vicious cycle of restarting my individual progress machine. But what scares me most is not knowing if by the end of my three months in the states, Margo and I will know each other well enough to even start the machine. And if my life stays the same course, will seeing her only six months out of the year ever be enough time to form a relationship that can progress.