I was thinking about this blog
recently and realized that I should be honest about the outcome, given that the
purpose of it was not just to explore our world through issues surrounding
children but my own thoughts about having kids.
This last September, Rob and I
welcomed a little girl into our lives.
The decision to have a kid was never concrete and even upon finding out
I was pregnant I was unsure. The
pregnancy journey was not fun and those women who think it is mystify me. What made it especially challenging was
that I developed an overgrown fibroid which started to die and the pain I
endured from that was even worse than labor.
Currently, we’re 4 ½ months in and,
obviously, much has changed since she was born. Having a child isn’t for
everybody and you won’t find me advocating for it or against it because we’re
all on our own path. Life gets
turned on to its heels after a child is born. You go through such a shock to your system that there’s
nothing I can compare it to. I
don’t remember the first 6 weeks, arguably 12, but I, obviously, survived and
got through it somehow because I’m still here.
This might be weird to say but I
would’ve been ok with not having kids.
I had a full life before and felt that I had purpose. I wasn’t seeking to fill any void and
can find it annoying when people say, “I don’t remember life before
kids.” That may be true for them but I certainly do and,
honestly, I sometimes miss it.
But having said that, knowing what
I now know, I can’t imagine my life without our daughter. If I were to lose her, I would
suffer. She makes me understand
the world a little differently, if not more deeply. This doesn’t make me a better person than someone who’s
childless, by any means. I liken
it to teaching: I was always sympathetic to the plight of teachers but didn’t
really understand their world until I became one. I could understand a parent before having a child myself but
only up to a certain point. As a
parent, I understand patience more deeply (although being a teacher
helped). I understand fearlessness
and sacrifice where I’d do anything for her without question. I also understand love on a level I
didn’t think someone like me was capable. These don't make me a better person now (since I think I was pretty good before), but I’m already a stronger
person because of them.
There are a lot of fears now – oh
the fears! – and worries and concerns.
I’ve already had countless moments where I’ve questioned the reasoning
behind the choice to be responsible for another human being. I look at all the hatred people have
for each other, all the judgments and lack of responsibility, and my heart
aches that we brought an innocent soul into this mess. A mess that I will have to try and
explain one day when I don’t even understand it all myself.
But then I look at her. I look at her face, her eyes, her
smile. I hear her giggles and now
emerging laugh, and somewhere deep within me there’s a flicker of light, of
hope, of faith, if you will, that shines telling me that in the end it’ll all
be OK. That the foundation we’re
building for her will help grow her good heart and soul that you can already
see. She may witness darkness
enveloping our world but my hope is that she’ll see its light is greater. The lack of sleep, the worry, and all
of the concerns that come with this territory of being a parent is a microcosm
of the larger picture on Earth.
These things may seem dark in the moment they’re happening but her
smiles, giggles and laughter are the light that shine greater than any dark
cloud could ever try to cover.
There’s so much focus on the negative aspects of having a kid and of all
that you lose. I know because I
sang that tune forever. But what about all that you gain? I can’t say what this is exactly
because it’s different for each of us.
Life is nothing but stages that we
go through and the challenges of each stage are what make us stronger
individuals. I may have been
unsure before but there’s no doubt in my mind that I will be eternally grateful
for choosing to go down this road.
Challenges and all.
