Can we talk about this whole havin’ babies thing for a minute? The world’s changing. Yet the majority out there cling to what’s comfortable. And what makes them uncomfortable? Those people who…wait for it… DO NOT WANT A FRICKIN’ BABY. Is that really that surprising still?
The first year of my son’s life nearly destroyed me. Mind you, I was 20 years old and thought I might have had an inkling of an idea of what I was getting myself into. Let’s all laugh for a good minute on that one. It wasn’t pretty. I’m not a crier, I’m pretty sure my tear ducts have been sealed with concrete. But I cried. A lot. Ugly cried on the bathroom floor with the water running so hard that I could maybe, hopefully drown out the demon screams of my beautiful, wonderful, miracle.
There was too much that I had zero experience in. Having a new baby is one thing. A baby who had all these things I knew nothing about. While adjusting to no sleep, diaper changes and feeding… I also had to learn all about thrush, reflux, fucking colic? All things that make your baby scream for what feels like every waking minute of your life. I don’t care what anyone says – hours of endless crying makes you go insane. Seriously insane.
I didn’t even get a free minute to check in with myself, see how I was doing. Well it wasn’t great. I was becoming angry. Like frothing at the mouth, white hot anger. I had never been that kind of person. I was angry at the world. Angry that instead of holding my baby his first moments, I was waking up alone in the ICU unable to speak, no idea where my baby was or why he wasn’t with me. Angry that after all that, he wasn’t easy on me. I wanted to bond, and he wanted to scream at me. Angry that I couldn’t stand up and pick him up when he cried cause I was healing. And so on and on and on.
For anyone that knows me, has likely never heard me yell. Most haven’t. Well… let’s just say I found my voice. I was dealing with post partum depression and had no clue. I was trying so hard to be Owen’s mom, and forgot I was myself first. And Owen needed her. Not this twisted up, angry, miserable unrecognizable version of me.
Enough about me, I’m just saying it’s fucking hard. And after that first year, it’s still hard. Every minute of every day. Forever. We may not deal with the same issues as when he was one but it changes everyday. New ones that I haven’t experienced before. It will always be hard, but I adapt and keep trying because Owen saved my life in a weird kind of way. We were meant to be. That’s my story. If you don’t want that, the good and the bad, til death do you part… It might not be for you. If you like your lifestyle, your sleep, yadda yadda. It’s friggin OK.
I had one. One and done. And that in its own makes people uncomfortable. Well, if you had one… you need to have ALL THE BABIES, RIGHT? So much no to that. My body and mind went through hell. Give them a rest and mind your own business. Or ya know, have your own babies. You’ll be too busy to bother me about having more.
What is this obsession? It takes so much of me to give Owen all my love, time and effort. And I take the time now for myself so I don’t go back down that road… the anger, and irritation towards anyone and everyone. I want a life of my own, too. I love Owen and want to teach him to be independent. This is the life I’m choosing.
Choose yours and those that want to guilt you, honestly, can fly a damn kite. Enough guilt. Life’s hard enough. And there’s enough people havin’ babies. There’s no shortage of people in the world, we aren’t becoming extinct any time soon. Ease your mind, go have a drink while eating sushi and sleep in late cause you friggin’ can!