Part III: Should We Take the Big Leap Into Parenthood?

Few life decisions are going to have as many repercussions as the decision of whether or not to become a parent. Few life decisions are going to affect as many areas of my life as the decision of whether or not to become a parent.  Few life decisions are this darn difficult!

For much of my life I've given little consideration to having children.  I imagined myself in a job I adored and the profession-focused lifestyle I imagined left no room for babies, diapers and bottles.  I maintained this position through most of my teens and into my early twenties.  When Kyle and I met we talked about whether we wanted kids.  I didn't think I did, and he wasn't sure he wanted to start having kids at his age (his words, not mine).  (Note:  Kyle and I are 19 years apart.)  

When I started working as a paraprofessional with Kindergarten students, the kid-o-meter in my heart would swing from wild desire to have one of these five year old cuties to the extreme of not wanting anything more to do with children once 3:45 pm rolled around.  I couldn't fathom how they managed to zap the energy out of me so quickly.  They were pint-sized energy vampires.  I don't generally have a lot of energy to spare, either. 

Then came my stint at teaching high school, and I told Kyle that teaching teenagers was the best birth control EVER.  I was horrified at the prospect that my child might turn out like this.  (Of course I had amazing students, too, but in my fantasy, my kids never turn out great, they turn out to be the monsters).  I was panicked at the prospect of raising a teenager "in this day and age".  (Oh, dear, how I sound like the older generations dismayed at the way the younger generation is going...).  How would I ever convince my child to stay away from drugs that are abundant, teenage pregnancies that are glorified and encourage him or her to get that education at all costs?

Despite all that suggested I wasn't mothering material, something inside started to shift in my mid twenties.  Perhaps it can be attributed to mother nature's push for me to reproduce.  Maybe it's my biological clock ticking a little more loudly.  More likely, though, the relationship I have with Kyle and his intensely caring and loving nature began to sway my opinion about whether or not we should have kids.  


Since about three seconds after I met Kyle, I knew that he had an innate ability to care and love, and the more unlovable I become, the more he loves me anyways.  I always think of the expression "My cup runneth over" when it comes to Kyle, because he never has a lack of love and warmth.  I have an intense need to see this man holding his child.  Our child.  He was born to father.  I know this when I see him with other children.  I know this merely by being in his presence.  It was confirmed when I saw the gentle 6 foot tall giant hugging close our 3 pound chihuahua.  Not an ounce of his make-up contains meanness or an uncaring nature.  I know that he would be the best father. 


If I hadn't married such a loving and compassionate guy, I don't think kids would be as much of a consideration for me as they suddenly are.  It is only because he is such quality father material that I have to reconsider my original position and revise the picture of what my future looks like. 


I'm at an age where friends and acquaintances are having several babies each year.  Whereas it used to barely register on my radar, it now becomes surprisingly painful each time I hear the news that so and so is expecting.  Don't get me wrong - I am so excited and happy for those close to me who have made the leap.  Yet, it stings a little.  I can't explain it, and I know it sounds selfish.  I don't mean for it to be so.  I merely mean to draw the comparison between my previous stance of, "Oh, good for them!" and my current stance of, "Oh, gosh!  How bittersweet!"   


I was journaling about this issue this week, and I came to a major realization that helps me partly understand why my stance on childbearing has changed.  At times in my life I've felt that my existence was a mistake.  No one has necessarily made me feel thus; I simply have.  Even though I know that my parents wanted me and waited many years to have me, I've often felt I was a burden to them.  I believed myself to be an emotional burden on my mother and a financial burden on my father.  My perspective on children, then, is skewed.  I've viewed children as a drain.  I viewed them as a burden.  I viewed them as taking the life out of their parents instead of breathing new life into them.  I didn't see the benefits of having children coming even close to making up for all the costs involved; and I'm not just speaking of financial costs.  


I realized, too, that many people in my life are raising kids solely.  I see a lot of one parent families, and while they function and often function well, I know I would have a terrific partner in parenting in Kyle.  I know he would give me the support I need to be the parent I should be.  And I would give that support to Kyle, too. This partnership greatly diminishes that perceived "burden", and so long as I'm fortunate enough to have Kyle in my life, I will have the most amazing partnership.  


Through my journaling and reflection, I realize that the most important lesson to learn is to stop viewing motherhood or parenthood as drudgery.  I can make it - to a large degree - what I want it to be.  Many examples of healthy, happily functioning families exist.  I can make myself and my health a priority and still make my relationship with my husband and my children a priority.  I can teach my children that I have certain needs as a human just as they do.  Of course my needs and wants will often come secondary to those of my children, but that will be by choice, not requirement.  


Having kids also doesn't have to mean that Kyle and I can't enjoy some of the activities we want to experience together.  Even though we have an age difference, there will hopefully be a few years together after our children are raised or at least in college.  Either way, this can't be known, and therefore shouldn't be worried about. It will be what it will be. 


We will develop the life that works for us, either way.  I've come to the decision that if we have kids we'll make it work beautifully, and if for whatever reason we are not given children, that too is for the best.  It will happen the way it is supposed to happenWe will adapt, together, and grow together, the way we always do.