It’s not that I think I would be a bad mom. I actually believe I would be a decent parent – not perfect, but certainly not disastrous. Who is perfect, anyway? And yet, still, I’m on the fence about having kids.
I already know what it means and feels like to Love something beyond measure. And I don’t believe you have to have a baby to know that feeling. But I do know there is still more room in my heart. In fact, I know having a child would bring me absolute joy (making me feel even fuller with Love than now).
That part terrifies me because I will think, “Is love enough?”
So really the problem has nothing to do with being a parent, if that makes any sense.
With both my husband and I’s personal uncertainties and hesitations, there has been a recurring cloud that seems to dim my light on motherhood. I have swayed from both sides of the fence on this matter since I can remember. Could having been an only child have much of an effect? Maybe.
Although growing up around 2+ handfuls of cousins should have made a similar impact, I think I resented those forced interactions (I have the introverted side of me to thank for that). On top of that, deep-rooted generational conditioning (and drama) has laid its hand on both sides of our families in not-so positive ways.
All in all, I grew up really enjoying the peace behind solitude.
This hasn’t been something easy to talk about openly to anyone (even with my husband), due to the fear of judgment and criticism. Unfortunately, people don’t want to hear YOUR opinion, they want to hear YOU agree with THEIRS. The black and white divide is absolutely utter freakin’ nonsense. Where are my down-the-middle peeps at??
It’s either a woman’s fulfillment in life is to bear offspring – otherwise, what are you even doing with your life?
Or there are those who want to shove their negative ideology of having kids [at all] down your throat – “our planet is over-populated”, “having kids is selfish”, “you’d be of more help by giving away your eggs so OTHERS can reap your ‘privilege'” or “with a family history like that – I hope you don’t reproduce.”
Not to mention the constant earful of just doing motherhood all wrong.
I’d never teach them this or let them do that –
she’s contributing to the problem by raising her kid like that –
vaccinate! –
don’t vaccinate! –
breast is bEsT –
formula?! Are you even tRyInG? –
if she doesn’t start going about things [said way], our future generation is doomed.“
[Eye-roll]. I mean, I tell you what – when you won’t give the culture what it wants (whatever “trend” or new thing to “cancel” is in at the time), it will just accuse you of exactly what it’s guilty of. Seriously, I could go on, because these days the most intolerant people PREACH the loudest about tolerance.
ANYWAY, back to where I was – being on the fence. To many it might be simple, “You either want a baby, or you don’t.” There’s no in-between – it just doesn’t exist, or it automatically means ‘No‘.
Recently my husband said something that sparked such an impact on my outlook on having children. He said, “Being a dad doesn’t define me. It doesn’t define my life, or me as a person.” Harsh words to bear for some – I get that. For others it speaks on so many levels.
I also resonated with that statement. I felt awful in one breath, but it was also a heavy breath of relief. Like, “yeah, it’s okay to feel that way.“
It’s actually not quite that simple. Life in itself isn’t strictly black and white. Much like in other parts of TML, I want to shed light on the valid gray areas in life that may go unheard, unspoken…or more importantly invalidated.
I know I’m not alone in this, and hope that laying this aspect of my life out on the table helps other women who can relate. While this post might not have much of a solution, as it is more of a confession, I do want to bring clarity for those in the same boat. I take this aspect and decision in adulthood very seriously, just in another way many may not. But the feelings are real, and the struggle between my glimmer of desire and fear is still authentic in the why I am on the fence about having kids.
I’m on the fence about having kids – Being a mother does not define me
honestly, my marriage is number one
Selfish or not, my husband is going to be that one person in my life – day in and day out – when the kids are gone (away to college, married and having children of their own). He is going to be the one with me through the changes – every gray hair, stretch mark, wrinkle and extra pound I gain or shed. He will be that person to hopefully see me at my worst and go, “I still Love you, and I’m here to stay.“
So, selfishly, I worry more about our marriage falling in the deep cracks parenthood can create. After all, every healthy childhood consists of having a happy, Loving family who creates a happy, Loving environment.
With both of us growing up in split or difficult marital households, devoting to maintaining a strong, happy and healthy marriage is a vital requirement for us.
We also know there is nothing a child can fix in a leaky, troubled or broken marriage to begin with. So it pains me to think of having to sacrifice my body, energy and time – knowing he will do the same in his own way – in hopes our Love is strong enough to pull through times of sacrifice, exhaustion, distance and instability.
seriously though, my life is like paradise right now
At this point, we literally have the freedom to do anything we want, when we want, however we want… without limitations.
Sure, I’ve heard the gawking reactions of, “A baby shouldn’t change anything. I can do all that with the joy of little ones, too…“.
I chuckle, because the big picture is that for parents there is still the added responsibility… when I am only responsible for me, myself and I. That dynamic is still very different for them than it is for me right now.
While waking up to the screaming, laughing and crying might be an alternate universe kind of joy, I get to wake up in pure silence (other than the unalarming whimper of my dogs to be fed).
This is something I really enjoy and lavish in right now. TBH, there are times I lay there and my stomach turns at the thought of one day entering into that other realm. And I hate that it feels like I’m saying it as it’s a bad thing, when I know it’s not.
Right now, it’s incredibly easy to get things done – on my time, at my own pace. Gone would be the days of simply using the bathroom in peace, showering on a regular wanted basis, and only tending to the needs of a hungry husband and couple of dogs.
OK – so there’s more to it than that, but there’s an infinite gap between my reality and one with a child. And right now, in my eyes, we live in straight paradise.
the fear of days battling my anxiety
Nobody really knows this, but there are days I have to simply talk myself down from anxiety taking hold of my entire day. Some days I won’t leave the house or move from one spot for hours, I’ll forget to eat most of the day or I just won’t get anything done. Simply doing the dishes will feel like a hefty accomplishment. And when the storm passes, much of my time is usually spent playing catch up (on myself, in my marriage, and my life) while carrying this heavy backpack of shame and guilt that rarely gets fully unpacked.
My anxiety robs me – of my time, energy, motivation and willpower. Most don’t know or see this side behind the girl who’s always laughing, cracking dirty jokes, and just being plain weird. I have found that I stim CONSTANTLY, and I think I do so as a way to dissociate from that anxiety. It has actually helped, in a way.
This is all without having eyes behind my head in order to watch that a child hasn’t touched, swallowed, climbed on, fallen or broken something. Apparently, babies can even be immobile for danger to occur – such as gouging their own eyes out with their fingernails (this is complete news to me). I can’t even go into the fact I would be that helicopter mom – that over-worrier to the point my husband has to convince me I don’t need the pediatrician on speed-dial, to which then my ego will spiral into believing my husband ‘doesn’t even care‘ and so on.
See?
I fear the days that I won’t be able to talk myself out of what starts uncontrollably in the first place. That having a baby will only add to my emotionally contorted mess. This takes me back to the first section of this post – knowing my husband will be the common denominator who is needed and impacted through it all.
the world is such a scary, scary place these days
You think I’m being ridiculous, but am I really?
Sometimes I can’t fathom bringing a child into this mess. How positive and optimistic of me, right? Seriously, though! How can we just ignore some of the truths we face in society, and the world, every single day?
My husband’s job, for instance. While he does do a lot of good in the community versus what many – including the media – like to portray, majority of his career is spent surrounding himself with bad eggs (with good reason, too). Many of these bad eggs are as young as the age of 11 and 12. Bad enough that the parents of these eggs need my husband’s ‘authority‘ on a regular basis. He’s not just a police officer fighting crime and putting bad guys in jail. That’s actually a small portion of how he spends his time. He’s also a mediator, counselor, teacher, assistant (for the disabled and elderly), life-saver (literally), and even a parental-figure to both other people’s children AND adults (who clearly didn’t have this in their life).
He’s endured centering himself around families who neglect, physically, mentally, and sexually abuse their children, and those who simply don’t care about raising them. HE has to witness and bear the responsibility of doing what’s right within the bounds of what he can do (more often never being enough).
In a way, this has tainted his view of parenthood and our generations ahead.
“You face the music as you go,” they say.
That’s easier said than done, when day by day I can only think about how much bringing a child into this world is much like sending them off into the Hunger Games. As parents you can only teach and show them so much – in hopes your voice is louder than the loud minorities in their ears. Yet, ultimately, a child’s environment in which they are raised as well as society plays a major role in our youth and in their decisions as coming adults.
I don’t even have a child, and I fully empathize with the strict, helicopter moms out there. Yet I still hear how “unhealthy” and debilitating that is on our kids. In the days where I grew up with discipline by a wooden spoon, there are so many things now “frowned upon“. Not only are kids bullying one another, but moms are bullying and shaming other moms for the way they raise their kids. So it’s like whatever it is you’re doing… it’s always wrong. And if you just so happen to be doing something right…well, you’re just lucky/”privileged”. There goes that shame game, again.
So sometimes it feels like we literally can’t win right from wrong or good and bad anymore when bad has become good and wrong is now right.
all of my other humiliating fears and worries
Which there are quite a few, and they’re mostly personal. Again, in actuality it isn’t parenthood I am afraid of. In fact, much of it is leading up to that or surrounding it.
sacrifice
With having a child comes sacrifice, and that’s a big pill for me to swallow. I can’t even swallow pills to begin with, because I’m a big baby about it. I dread the idea of having to possibly give up our annual trips, or to have to lessen our spending on groceries. I’ll never forget to this day when my mother told me she and my dad lived off soup and PBJ when I was born and for some time thereafter.
I never want to be at that point. My husband and I actually make a significantly great team financially – with similar goals and spending habits. So we are on the same ladder as far as being fiscally responsible. Besides, it’s only natural to sacrifice for the quality of a child’s life and well-being. But it’s also giving up parts of myself and my life that have become a necessity or routine. And I don’t mean superficially, I literally mean what goes toward our HEALTH.
With that, there’s also the guilt of knowing my fur babies would never receive the same Love and attention – they become sacrificed, too. And TBH, that part absolutely kills me inside.
pain
Embarrassingly, I fear the pain. The whole bit – pregnancy, nausea, backaches, birth, and recovery. Hold off on the, “but it’s all worth it in the end…,” spiel, as I’m literally trying to imagine what it’s like to be 16+ hours into labor while currently going through 2-3 hours of fetal-position-menstrual-cramping or ovulation pain (YEAH, if you know, you know) while aimlessly waiting for my Ibuprofen to kick in.
On top of it, the idea of having to decide whether to have a huge needle go into my spine for partial relief [gulp], or enduring it all the natural way isn’t appealing in the least. Besides, I’ve gotten wind that recovery is often the most difficult process in terms of pain.
“These days you can elect cesarean,” they say. As if there isn’t pain with that, too. The thought of being awake while going under the knife is enough of a buzz kill for me. Besides, there are enough horror stories floating around about that first post-birth poop situation.
Sure, with the adrenaline it may all be worth it in the end – that’s after you’ve made it through quicksand and back. That doesn’t mean at one point many didn’t have the thought of wanting to shove that baby’s head back in, call it a day and go home.
I know the moment (of pain) passes, but that’s just it. I still fear the moment.
change
Post opp, I fear the changes – from pregnancy itself. The bodily changes – like the ones that are irreversible. I fear change in my outlook upon myself, but more so my husband’s.
I fear the possibility of losing myself in the process, since PPD is widely common these days among pregnancy. Yes, even among those whose life aspiration is to have children!
After all the fear of pain, I also fear the pain of disconnection. The last thing I would ever want to have happen is to feel resentment and disconnection from the life I spent 9 months and hours upon hours growing and birthing.
There’s also the bottomless pit of guilt, loneliness, emptiness, and self destruction. All would likely eat away at my self esteem and steal my ability to not only love my child and husband, but to take care of myself.
the decisions
The decisions – big and small, vital and worthy – scare me almost more than anything else. Having to choose between this birth plan and that one, what I believe to be right or wrong as far as my baby’s health, and doing what’s best for us as a family. I fear making these decisions (alongside my husband) for my body and another living being without the disappointment or judgement of others.
Hell, I even fear opposition from my husband (especially when it comes to my body). I guess you can say I am scared of dealing with the crossroads head on – maybe because at this point they just don’t seem worth digging up.
“It’s not about what anyone else thinks,” they say. I get it. People will still judge, they will compare their right and wrong to mine, and they will always go searching for some way to validate their voice and opinion against another’s. It’s what we do as beings – we have a hard time accepting individuality without alienating.
So when it comes to making that ultimate decision to have kids, or not, I know I will be alienated either way. I will be bombarded with right or wrong ways to go about parenting and my birth plan, or I will ultimately disappoint those for making such a huge mistake I will never get to do over.
Yeah, that aspect equally makes me feel unhinged.
I just can’t help it – I like being liked. As silly and unrealistic as that is and sounds. When my decisions negatively affect the family-relationship you have with individuals, it still makes a lasting impact as much as it can be scarring.
if a child is a reward that is worth all risks
Right now, if I were to write out a Pros and Cons list – you’d literally see a growing spectrum on one side and a select few on the other. As much as I’m ashamed to admit, well, and because it’s obvious – my Cons list is much more elaborate. My Pros list is also undoubtedly classic, logical and irrefutable.
Both lists actually make me feel really selfish, to which then I am left with guilt to side with my Cons altogether. In reality making the choice not to have children should never be considered selfish, but I can’t help but feel that word plastered across my forehead when there are so many women out there struggling with their life aspiration to be mothers.
Knowing that doesn’t make me feel any better about the few Pros I’m about to dish, either. One being that we would simply carry on the family name, but also the confidence that we would make one absolutely beautiful baby.
Seriously, though, how ridiculous is that?
Another, which is already a given, is that children are a once in a lifetime and precious, priceless gift.
Sometimes it feels like I am waiting for that sign, missing puzzle piece or answer to the riddle. It wasn’t until recently when I heard one of my husband’s friends say, “you’re never ever truly ready for a baby.” Everything in me wanted to disprove that statement, call it heinous and continue on my merrily logical way. Although ever since it has had me rethink everything.
Are we ever really truly ready?
Sure, there are a few boxes that should always be checked – like being fiscally responsible, financially and mentally stable, as well as established and steadfast (especially in our relationship, or marriage). That doesn’t cover everything, though, like the unknown. It doesn’t include the experience, the difficulties or moments that are out of our control (which includes fear).
With that I am struggling with whether my Pros are, and will ever be, enough to outweigh the Cons. Meaning, if the risk is worth the reward.
the one fear I actually don’t have
And it’s something I feel suuuuuper guilty about – knowing how sensitive the word is and how much heartache it brings for many.
The sad truth is if I simply can’t have children, or have a difficult time with fertility, I would not be heart-stricken with worry or pain. Trust me when I say there wouldn’t be feelings of relief, and I also would never consider it a “blessing” upon myself, either. Of course, that is something to grieve – for someone being on the fence – and I may even find myself with regret later in life. But I would also believe it to be the path God chose for me. I would accept what is without a fight. This means, that if it came down to it, I would forgo artificial insemination or IVF.
I made this decision for myself a long time ago, before marriage was even in the picture. Years later and married, my personal choice still hasn’t changed.
In one breath I feel nothing but shame – for the women who would do literally anything and spend everything just to be a mother – but in another breath I have to be honest with myself. I can sense the judging thoughts as I write this, “…then you don’t deserve to be a mother at all.“
I would need a partner who is all in – if not more than I
I know this sounds totally out of whack just spelling it out.
Having a baby should be totally and equally wanted and chosen by both partners, but hear me out. It likely isn’t uncommon to have both partners on the fence, or one being totally in and ready while the other is clinging onto reluctance, practicality or logic.
I would love to tally up how many said they were “ready”, but ultimately wished they could have waited just…a bit…longer.
Therefore, I don’t want any part in having to convince, beg or sway my husband simply because I’m ready. I also don’t want him to cave knowing that this a natural part of our chapter in life at this age and stage of our lives. I have my own theories and opinions, and one I feel strongly about is that men typically settle in this area for the sake of the woman even if they’re not ready, in opposition or on the fence. Or, they just “don’t care” – as in, having children bears less weight in their life compared to mothers. *I say this very, very gently.
My point being: I need a husband who doesn’t want to picture his life further without the title of “dad”.
And for me, it’s in those real moments that have me willing to leap from that fence. You know, when you envision your partner in those moments of being a father. The pictures of husbands in tears the moment their baby is born, or the undeniable love and protection in his eyes when he looks at this new being you both created.
That realness.
I turn into complete mush and know undoubtedly that I would fall even more in love with my husband aside from all the fears and inevitable struggles to face with parenthood.
The problem is when those moments are quickly squashed with obvious and prolonged signs of disinterest and reluctance, or that the idea of parenthood just isn’t working its way upward in my husband’s tier of life aspirations. In a way this brings me back down from the short-lived high, placing me back onto this very fence and beginning from square one again.
I just don’t want to experience that high alone. So, in one breath, sitting on the fence remains a comfortable spot for me.
babies and children make me uncomfortable, period
I know I will be stepping on toes here – so I’m watching where I walk.
This has been something I’ve experienced since I can remember – even as a child myself. Whenever I am around a screaming or crying child – I get an odd sensation (like an eye twitch you can’t stop). I get uncontrollably sweaty, with this deep feeling of embarrassment (trust me, I don’t understand it, either), and the intense need to escape that particular environment.
It’s sad to say that I avoid being around children like the plague, nor am I the person that will be begging to hold a new baby. Puppies on the other hand…
I’ve always had this need to be liked. Maybe it’s that babies always left me feeling susceptible to being unlikable – from the constant crying, unnecessary screaming and naughty, inexplicable behaviors. I don’t know, I just feel like they’re so emotionally fragile and backdoor judgy, even though it’s just mere curiosity through expression and emotion. Either way, it’s made me often wonder if this only has to do with other people’s children, and not what would be my own. I have only been able to decide and admit (regretfully) that it is simply another fear on my uncanny, ever-growing list.
This has been something incredibly hard to admit, since I have many friends with babies and young children. It isn’t that I am repulsed or unhappy for them. In fact, there are many whose babies have made a positive impact on this entire struggle for me.
all in all
Clearly this entire post would give away to anyone that, “Wow, she really must NOT want kids,” but the truth of the matter is – a really, really, really scary part of me does. Like, if it fell in my lap that would be my ah-ha moment for me – “this is it, it was meant to be.“
I think it’s important to understand that fear is totally normal, though living in fear is not a life to live. Parenthood just being one of many for me. So learning to overcome and embrace change, as well as fear, is pivotal for learning and growing. Holding back in life because of fear will never allow us to see everything we ever wanted on the other side.
So far, it’s been a constant journey of asking myself (while on the fence), “Am I okay with this (where I’m at right now)?“
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