Mindy Kaling - Help Is On the Way

Text copyright 2020 by Mindy Kaling

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by Amazon Original Stories, Seattle

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eISBN: 9781542017169

Cover photo by Mike Rosenthal

Cover design by Liz Casal

Illustrations by Abbey Lossing

All photos courtesy of the author

W hen I was born in 1979, my motherwho had been a doctor in India and Nigeriawas working in Boston as a medical resident in obstetrics and gynecology. When she arrived in the United States, she had to redo her entire residency, which is expected and standard for new immigrants, though I would imagine also very frustrating. Whenever she recounted this period in her life, it was always without complaint. As a twelve-year-old, her attitude made zero sense to me.

Didnt you just want to scream, I CAN DO THIS ALREADY! ? I asked, incredulous. I loathed doing my ten-minute weekly chore of folding my socks and underwear and putting them awaythe thought of redoing years of schooling you already did seemed as unfathomable as if I were trapped in a sock-folding loop in some undiscovered circle of hell.

But my mom replied, Not really. I was able to learn some new techniques and make friends.

I squinted at her suspiciously. Never complain, never explain is the old saying, and my mother completely embodied it. Me, on the other hand? I love complaining. Almost as much as I love explaining! If I could just kvetch and give disclaimers all day, I would be so happy.

Me and my best friend.

After giving birth to me, my mom took only two weeks off from her residency and then went back to work. My dad worked, so my paternal grandmother and other members of our family helped take care of me during the day. I think this is common for a lot of Indian American kids of my generation. I didnt grow up with a nanny, and I can count the times when I had a babysitter on one hand. This may be an Indian thing, but it wasnt really normal to have nonblood relatives in our house for social reasons, and certainly not for childcare. In fact, if a white person was in our house, it was a little alarming, unless he was there to fix the dishwasher or something. We were private people and didnt outsource much. So the idea of a baby nurse would have been completely foreign and illogical to my parents.

Naturally, when I was pregnant, I didnt think I needed a baby nurse either. If Mom could do it all without a whisper of complaint, then why couldnt I? What was a baby nurse anyway? Wasnt she just a brown-skinned woman who lived in your house, woke up in the middle of the night, and helped you nurse the baby? Theres already a brown-skinned woman who lives in my house who is supposed to do all those things: me! I chose to have this little baby on my ownwasnt it my God-given responsibility to be with her every waking second of maternity leave?

When youre an actress and comedy writer, there are so few things that you get to do that make you feel worthy and tough. Our lives are so easy so much of the time. If Im on set, and I casually mention Im a little thirsty, within minutes, a panicked twentysomething PA hands me a green juice with a straw thats already been unwrapped (except for the top part, of course, for hygiene reasons). It starts to make you feel like a privileged princess. Being the only person taking care of my baby after she was born was something I actually looked forward to, if only to remind myself I was born and raised like a normal person, not like the ultra-chic celebrity I grew up to be.

My doctor had advised me to only put on twenty to thirty pounds during my pregnancy, and yet, in my first trimester, I had actually lost nine pounds. This was an incredible feat for me, because Ive struggled with my weight my whole life, and I was definitely expecting pregnancy to make me bounce-house size. It helped that I was nauseated by everything and never wanted to eat. When I did eat, I was so preoccupied with the babys nutrition that I ate things like salmon and sauted kale. I had always thought Id sooner die than eat kale, and yet there I was, munching on it like some kind of Instagram salad influencer. When my doctor told me I needed to keep extra hydrated, I would wake up and drink twenty ounces of water every single morning while still sitting in bed (and then I had to pee like fifteen times a day). I hadnt overachieved this much since high school, and I was loving this vibe for myself.

I was killing the pregnancy game. Plus, I had a luxurious two-month maternity leave to look forward to. Two months of doing nothing but taking care of my baby? What a dream! While I was on my television show, The Mindy Project , I once went five years without taking a vacation. And thats what I thought maternity leave was: a paid vacation plus a quiet little baby. I could for sure handle a baby by myself. I could barely wait to handle it. Id probably even have time to watch all of Westworld and then read the Reddit pages that could actually explain the show to me.

I was feeling smug about my decision when I had coffee with my friend Lauren. Lauren has two kids, runs Reese Witherspoons production company, and has her shit completely together. Lauren is also a walking Yelp. She knows all the best everything. Lauren has given me recommendations for everything from a gynecologist to a contractor to a lady who can apply eyelash extensions without too much chitchat. Lauren is the same age as I am but somehow seems to know so much more about the world than I do. You know your friend who simply goes through life paying better attention? Thats Lauren. This all has a point, and that point is to build up to Laurens reaction when she asked if I had a baby nurse and I told her, blithely, that I wasnt going to use one. She leaned back and took a long sip of her coffee, which is universal friend body language for, Youre a complete fucking idiot.

What? I asked. My mom never used one. Ill be fine.

Lauren then went on to tell me one of the best pieces of advice Ive ever gotten about motherhood. She said that the time after you have a baby is exponentially harder than the time leading up to it. And that having a baby nurse is the best way to prepare for this physically and psychologically demanding time. When I tried to disagree and explain to her that in my expert opinion, Indian women dont really get postpartum, thats a white person thing, she looked me dead in the eyes and said: Mindy? Listen to me. Youre wrong. And thats when she told me about Rose.

Rose was Laurens baby nurse when her daughter, Riley, was born. She lived with Laurens family for six weeks. Lauren said Rose changed her life, that she was a baby whisperer, and that I needed to hire her now.

Hire her now? I was two months pregnant. I had to hire a person for an event almost eight months away? That really wasnt my style. When The Office was nominated for an Emmy back in my twenties, I chose my gown the same afternoon as the Emmys, and that felt totally normal. I went to the BCBG at the Beverly Center and had the young woman in the evening dress section select something that wouldnt make me look too hippy. It was fine. Why so much lead time when it came to babies and their nurses? But Lauren explained that baby nurses in Los Angeles are snatched up super fast. Some are even hired the day a woman finds out shes pregnant.