It Takes a Whole Damn Village

This post is in partnership with our friends at Bugaboo, a brand known for creating thoughtfully designed products that support parents through the many moving parts of daily life.

My wife, Michelle, and I tend to think that things happen when they’re supposed to. But we had to double down on that belief when our daughter was born three-and-a-half weeks early, on arguably the biggest week of Michelle’s professional calendar. Michelle is the head coach of a Division I lacrosse program, and our daughter's birth and short stay at the NICU coincided with the completion of her season. 

In the days to follow, the baby’s aunts and uncles, blood and chosen, filled our hospital room with love, food deliveries, and the inevitable items missing from the hospital bag. All the while they, and our parents, helped complete the three weeks of preparation we had missed out on at home. Our freezer, filled with prepped meals, never looked better. 

There from the beginning, our parents knew how emotionally and logistically difficult it would be for Michelle to continue to travel with her team, and stayed with me to ensure that I was fed, cared for, and had transportation to and from the hospital to visit our daughter. Our neighbors delivered homemade lasagna. A friend who is a NICU nurse served as an invaluable lifeline. Moms of NICU graduates sent words of positivity and encouragement. 

On the day our daughter was discharged home, my brother and parents were there to make sure we had everything we needed, including photos and videos to ensure Michelle didn’t miss a moment. And our best friends, who we are blessed to live next door to, had decorated our porch and entryway with balloons and signs welcoming our baby girl home.  

You frequently hear the phrase “it takes a village,” but we certainly didn’t understand the  importance of a village, and truthfully who was in it, until these early moments.  

We were well cared for in those early days, as many new moms are, but the community around us didn’t fade away as they often do. In fact, community is inherent where we live. Michelle coaches at Army West Point which came with it the opportunity for our family to live on post, woven into a unique community. Our neighborhood not only consists of other families who are a part of the Army Athletics Family, but also military families who understand service, sacrifice, and community in a way that few do. There is built-in understanding of long hours, shifting seasons, and the weight and pride of commitment that makes the support feel especially meaningful. 

The incredible opportunity to live on post meant that I would be moving 55 miles away from my  job in New York City as a Physician Assistant. I work 12.5 hr shifts three days a week, with a two-and-a-half hour round trip drive. Five years after making that move I am still enduring the commute because I not only love my job, but because of the community that surrounds us and enables two working moms to chase their passions and continue to thrive at home. 

It is within this community that we found childcare in the form of our fairy godmother, baby-whispering neighbor (and friend) who enriches our daughter’s life on the days that I am working. Who understands, as a coach’s wife herself, how demanding and unpredictable our lifestyle can be, and the special support that is required for our families.

Our village includes my wife’s players who are wonderful and impressive young women, who serve as the greatest role models we could ever dream of for our daughter. Her favorite days are those that end with us at lacrosse practice yelling “Go Army, Go Momma!” and her little high fives to some of the most impressive women she’ll ever know. 

And lastly,  this community has brought us life-long friendships with people who are a chosen family, who bring joy, nurturing, and understanding. It’s the early morning texts asking for our order from the local coffee shop, the “anyone need anything from Trader Joe’s?” to the group chat,  friends insisting on watching our daughter so we can have a date night and the afternoon  homemade latte delivery from one tired mom to another—all of which feel like small gestures,  but go such a long way.  

While much of that speaks to the immediate village around us, we are infinitely grateful for  and indebted to our village that loves us from afar. It became abundantly clear, as it does for so many, that you don’t quite understand how to support a new parent until you become one.  We have been so thankful to have friends who entered motherhood before us and who have served as a vital resource regardless of distance. Friends who have answered our endless questions without judgement, ease our minds when a phase seems to last just a little too long, who validate tears over spilt milk and laugh with us through unhinged toddler moments.  

Motherhood humbles you into accepting help and opens your eyes to the quiet strength of  community. I cannot imagine a village greater than ours and we never take for granted how fortunate we are to raise our family within it.

Lara Bennett is a physicians assistant and her wife, Michelle Tumolo, is the head lacrosse female coach for Army West Point. They live with their one-year-old daughter Nell in upstate New York.