One and Done (But Probably Not)

/ Katie / Leave a comment

On days like this, I wonder, do I really want to have more children?

We’re not in any hurry to have another baby, but I never imagined I’d be the mom of an only child. I remember, when Boo was still a newborn, I thought I wanted another one immediately. I’ve always heard that it’s best to give your body at least a year to recover from having a baby, and once Boo turned a year old, I thought I’d want to convince my boyfriend at the time (now, my fiance) that we needed to have another child right away. I wanted my kids close in age. I wanted to give my daughter the thing I always wanted growing up: a sibling that she could be close to as she got older.

Then we hit the year mark, and I realized I didn’t want another baby after all. Not yet anyway. I mean, I did, but not anytime in the near future. I thought we’d revisit the topic again later this year, around our wedding date, but we’re just over three months out from that and really, I can’t imagine having another baby anytime soon. The thought is a little bit terrifying, if I’m being completely honest.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy being a mom, because I do. It’s the hardest job I’ve ever had, but it’s also the most rewarding. I love my daughter more than anything in the world, but the thought of going through that first year again kind of makes me want to cry. Having a newborn is so hard.

Having a toddler is no walk in the park, either. My sleep schedule is all screwed up because after putting R to bed, instead of going to bed myself and attempting to get a nice, long rest, I get back up to have some time to myself or spend time with my fiance. Inevitably, I end up being awake far too late, which was the case last night, and as luck would have it, my daughter likes to wake me up early on those mornings when I haven’t gone to bed early. She also isn’t sleeping through the night yet. I feel like a zombie most days, I’m lucky if I’m able to get through the day without falling asleep – which, lately, isn’t often. The lack of sleep is the worst part about this whole parenting thing, really. I’m just so tired.

Doing this all this over again? I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that. The sleepless nights, the breastfeeding struggles, the colic, the tantrums, the complete meltdowns, the battles over everything – would I do it a second time? Well, I could, and I probably will one day, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for that day to come. I suppose it’ll likely happen once I forget how exhausting these first couple years actually are.

And maybe after I’ve caught up on several months’ worth of sleep.

I don’t know how parents of more than one child do it. You all deserve awards for everything you do.

Take Your Opinion Elsewhere

/ Katie / Leave a comment

Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement to make. It’s a big one! Are you ready for it? Make sure you’re sitting down. Okay. Here it is:

I don’t care about your opinion when it comes to my parenting.

Not even a little bit, not anymore. I remember when Boo was younger, I used to constantly compare myself to other parents and I was always wondering which way was the “right” way to do things, because I always wanted to make sure I was on the “right” side of each parenting issue. Really, though, the mommy wars get exhausting after a while, and they’re not even worth participating in. Nobody benefits. (If you don’t know what “the mommy wars” are, post an article on one of your social media accounts about breastfeeding in public or cry it out or the benefits of cloth diapering and watch what happens. It’s kind of like chumming the water when you’re looking for sharks.)

I’m so tired of the unsolicited advice. My daughter is almost a year and a half old now, I’m pretty sure that if I haven’t gotten the hang of things yet, I probably never will.

Yes, I am still breastfeeding my toddler; no, she doesn’t really eat much food, and really, you have no reason to be concerned about that. Did you get a medical degree overnight that entitles you to an opinion on her eating habits? We’ve already talked to the pediatrician about it and there’s nothing to be concerned with.

Yes, we do let her sleep in our bed; no, she won’t be sleeping with us when she’s sixteen, I’m pretty confident of that. What teenager sleeps with their parents? Come on, that’s just ridiculous. She’s not even two yet. We’ll transition her when she’s ready, which will likely be soon. She’ll get there. Don’t you worry about us.

Yes, we do tend to her needs right away; no, she’s not going to be raised to be an entitled brat. You see, we’ve always gotten better results when we’ve tended to her needs fairly quickly, and even now as a toddler, when she absolutely needs something, we don’t keep it from her. That doesn’t mean that every time she cries for my phone or the television that she gets what she wants. It does mean that when she wants to be held, we hold her; when she wants a snack, we give it to her right away; and when she wants to play, yes, I stop what I’m doing and I play with her.

For those who have mentioned sleep training to me in the past, we don’t do that either. She still nurses to sleep, that’s what works for us. We’ll stop doing it either when she’s ready or when I get sick of doing it. And, no, we have not and will never use the cry it out method if we ever do decide to sleep train. It’s not something I’m comfortable with.

I could go on and on about the choices we’ve made for her. Some of them are unpopular in many of the social circles I’m a part of, and that’s okay. Not everyone can agree on everything, that’s what makes life interesting, but unless I specifically ask you for advice, keep it to yourself. You might as well talk to a brick wall, because I genuinely don’t care about the opinion you have on how we choose to parent. You shouldn’t care about how other people view your parenting style, either. Is your child fed, loved, happy, and healthy? Good, mine too, let’s talk about something else now.

My Big Fat Positive

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Exactly two years ago, I received confirmation that I was pregnant. I remember it like it was yesterday. At the time, I was working at a before school program for children and worked early in the morning for a couple of hours. After that, I’d go home, take a nap, and if I had class that day, go to that. (If I was feeling like it. I wasn’t exactly the greatest student the last semester or two of college, but that’s a story for another day.)

After I’d finished working that day, I stopped at the store to pick up a package of three pregnancy tests and headed on home. I didn’t think I was pregnant, but I wanted to rule out the possibility. My period was several days late, despite the fact that I was on birth control, but I figured it had to do with stress. I’d graduated college a few weeks earlier, I was desperately searching for a full-time job, I had things going on in my personal life at the time… it had to be stress. It had to be, I was so sure, but the pregnancy tests were just in case. I’d been exhausted, but I figured that was a side effect of a new medication I was taking. I had some aches and pains that I didn’t have before, but that had to be stress too. No way it was pregnancy causing all that.

I got home. I took the test. To my surprise, both little lines showed up pretty clear.

It took me two more pregnancy tests to be convinced that I was, apparently, pregnant.

may 22

You know how most women tell you how exciting and wonderful that positive test is? I’m not most women. My Facebook status from that day shows how not excited I was at the time. I was terrified. I was not ready for a child. I was barely a college graduate, I was in the middle of a pretty stressful job search, and those things in my personal life were not going to clear up themselves. I had a choice to make, and in the end, I realized that this felt exactly like what I was supposed to do with my life. That first ultrasound was a cool experience. To see that tiny little person growing inside of me on the computer screen was nothing short of amazing. It wasn’t until a week or two later that the reality of motherhood began to set in, and I began to feel connected to the little being I’d seen on that screen. I can’t say that it wasn’t hard for me to get used to the idea, but once it finally began to hit me, I knew there was nothing else I’d rather do.

It was a long nine months. The terror subsided for a while, but as I neared my due date, it began to rear its ugly head again, and I found myself having regular breakdowns because I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t have that baby, I wasn’t going to be a good mother – but the moment I held her in my arms for the first time, all that doubt and all that fear just disappeared.

I still think back to May 22, 2012, quite often, and I think about how my little girl has changed me in so many ways. Physically and emotionally, I’ve been changed forever. I’ve grown up so much in the last two years, and it’s because of her.

Thank you for coming into my life, little lady. You have no idea how much you mean to me.