When I met my husband we had a ton in common. We spent the year and a half before our wedding discussing politics, religion, art, music, etc. We also discussed the fact that neither of us wanted children. I come from a large extended family but a small immediate family and Coop comes from a small everything. I didn't want a child to hinder any growth we could've made personally or together. I had thought I'd become a district attorney fighting for the good guy and putting bad guys in jail. I didn't picture breastfeeding, knowing what a blowout was or sitting with patience to hear my child answer one of Dora's dumbass questions. God has a hilarious sense of humor and I know this the hard way.
When Aiden was conceived I was trying to keep my monthly visitor from coming during our belated Hawaii honeymoon vacation. I had recently been told that I had endometriosis and that it would be difficult for me to get pregnant. Clearly 2 weeks of pausing my birth control would never complicate my future...right? Well it did, and 3 weeks after my experiment with menstrual prevention I started puking. I assumed I had eaten something bad or had picked up a nasty case of food poisoning. Pregnancy was the furthest thing from my mind. After vomiting for the fifth time at my workplace a co-worker suggested I take a pregnancy test. 'Impossible', I thought. I have been on the pill for a couple years and never had a scare- Plus, I am Not Able To Make The Babies.
After 2 positive tests and one super fun visit to my doctor I discovered a tiny Aiden growing in my stomach. I immediately flipped out. I called my mom and fought through tears telling her of how I'd ruined my life and paused any growth in my education. She tried not to sound excited, but I knew that she (like everyone) was so happy to be expecting a baby.
I grew into my pregnancy and slowly excepted my fate. I was to be a mother and there was nothing I could do about it. After all, I had been married at the time of conception and my husband had a good job. I had no reason (by Bakersfield standards) to be disappointed. However, I feared that I wasn't cut out for the mom job. I had been a terrible pretend mom to all my childhood baby dolls and had killed the fake baby I had to care for in Economics class. I hated most children and despised all forms of basic domestic responsibility. I was NOT A MOM.
On October 1, 2003 I gave birth. I held a beautiful, wide eyed baby boy in my arms for the first time. Never in a million years did I think I'd be a good mom. I only gave myself a 3 month window for breastfeeding. I assumed that I'd hate it and only be able to do the bare minimum to assist in my child's healthy growth. I actually nursed for over a year! I watched as months flew by in my sons life and I hadn't managed to screw up a thing! I cleaned his explosive blow outs with ease. I nursed him through colds, growth spurts and teething. I sang to him and rocked him to sleep at night. I was obsessed with his perfection. I was a mom.
Now I'm the mother of three. I'm fairly good at it. I have been through ups and downs with my children and managed to come out the other side. However, everyday I worry that I'm not doing it...right. Think of all the advice you received once having children. The minute you announce your pregnancy it flows in. I'm guilty of it too. I have jumped at the thought that I could pass on my huge amount of knowledge to the unknowing, inexperienced woman about to deliver her first child. Hell, I am writing a freaking blog on the subject. Every person has a different story. "Don't let your child cry it out, it'll damage them", "Let your baby cry, it'll make them a more independent person", "Whatever you do- don't let them watch TV because it'll damage their concentration", "Buy them the Baby Einstein DVD's because it'll make them smarter."
We listen and nod but secretly worry that we will never know the perfect way to parent our children. For me it is my greatest fear. I have one serious responsibility. I need to make sure I raise Godly, sweet, responsible children. The thought keeps me up at night. In actuality, we have no clue how the future with unroll. I could do my very best and end up with a teen mother or a drug addict. What I do need to focus on is doing my- very- best. I need to listen to their issues and not pass judgement. I have to make sure they feel loved while inflicting discipline. Being a parent is the single hardest job on our planet. It makes me cringe when I see people slacking off at that job or being discontent. The world is a crappy place sometimes. The only thing I can hope for is the new generation of human beings. I teach my kids to be kind, thoughtful, non-judgemental and good. I want to know that when I pass on that my kids will be here to make me proud.
Life is such an interesting thing. We are born and we die. The middle part is what we do while we are waiting for the here after. I hope to make my middle the best I can. Those middles could do with a lack of sociopathic, ingrate, narcissistic and douchey offspring. How do you want to leave yours? So the last bit of unsolicited motherly advice I'm going to give is to go with your gut. Don't care what other people think you should do with your child. You will always think you know what you're going to do in every situation but you actually have no clue until that situation pops up. The perfect parent is not a myth. I am the the perfect parent for my 3 knuckleheads and I imagine you are or will be to yours.
