Many thanks to everyone that sent a note of congratulations or “you’ll be fine” yesterday (and over the last several weeks). I’ve got a good partner in Randy, a good cheerleader in Noah, and so far, a healthy, quiet baby in my belly. We’ll make this work.
Probably my favorite part of yesterday was all of the private responses I got from women who agreed that they also didn’t like kids. Some of these ladies are already moms. Some are considering the venture. Some wouldn’t want to poke at it with a 10 foot pole. (Though I guess that’s the dude’s job…)
I’ve figured out my biggest issue with this whole concept is all the unknown. Those of us that didn’t have siblings nor a babysitting career in our teens just don’t know what raising kids is like. A year ago I would have told you it’s nine months of feeling the sickest you’ve ever felt only to spend the next six months without any sleep or grown-up social interaction and the rest of your life filled with worry. But I still wanted to do it. In theory.
When I was in high school, I tried out for cheerleading because I felt like I should. In college, the same reasoning led me to join a sorority. This line of thought told me that some day (far, far in the future) I would be a wife and a mother. Well, becoming a wife was a pretty cool…potentially more fun than the cheerleading or sorority stints (though lacking a collection of cheers and t-shirts), so I started to warm up to this whole mom idea. Maybe I didn’t need to wait forever. Maybe now was the time.
And then we tried. And time past. Lots of time. And then it became a challenge for me. Gosh darn it, if I want something, I want it now! So without giving too much thought about the baby that would come out of it at the end, I focused my attention on getting pregnant. Doing all the things you read about, listening to old wives tales from friends… I was even one day away from trying acupuncture when that test showed positive. It took me a few weeks to realize “holy cats, I’m going to be a mom.” Not a mom 10 years from now, but a mom before I hit my next birthday. Eepers.
I like my free-flowing schedule. And being able to go out to dinner whenever we feel like it. And to choose to read a book or watch tv or paint my toes or go to bed early when evening hits. To sleep through the night and then sleep in the next morning. I’m really not excited to let these things go and am going on my faith in the women who contacted me yesterday that it won’t be that bad. I won’t have to give up everything.
And I hope my friends won’t give up on me! There are a few women who have been noticeably quiet in congratulatory responses and I spent a lot of time wondering why. In their eyes have I sold out to the “well, I’m supposed to” camp? Do they think I’m not going to be interested in doing the same things we did together anymore? Am I a lost cause to mommyhood?
I know there is a good portion of folks that may read this that wouldn’t comprehend why I would care about the answers to any of these questions. They would say that being a mom is worth losing a few friends if that’s what it takes. Someday I may agree with them, but for now I want it all. And praise be to the highest that I know there are at least a handful of friends in the background who get this fear, this need. I know I’m not alone. And hopefully, we can all figure it out together.
One Comment