Motherhood isn't for everyone, but it's for me. (A Mini Post)
88: a little from my brain, a little from my heart, all from me.
This week, I wrote my first letter to my second child.
Even though this baby is not yet a baby and is still just a fetus the size of my hand, my stomach is looking different than it did the first time around. I think I was showing my tummy off a lot more in my first pregnancy, perhaps because I was more sure what was the baby moving and what was gas. But without knowing the gestational age of da baby the last few months, I found myself feeling embarrassed by what I felt was my not-so-obvious baby bump. Zach constantly reassures me that I do look pregnant (as he did up until week 40 of my last pregnancy), but I still felt insecure about it. It was really difficult to even accept the fact that I was pregnant without an ultrasound these last couple of months, even with the constant nausea. I know humans learn about object permanence very young, but I guess— in a time that nothing feels very permanent— this foundational concept got all mixed up in my head.
But this week, I got to have 2 ultrasounds. One was the initial dating ultrasound that should have happened close to 10 weeks ago, and the second one for an anatomy check. Thankfully, all measurements were completely normal! And Oakley got to see his little sibling wiggling around on a big screen. He was very interested, but was immediately more interested in the elevator on our way out, which we promptly road up and down 4 times before I got too dizzy.
“‘Cause one day maybe I might.
Would it give my life a new purpose?”
Pregnancy is hard. For me, it was hard the first time for more vomit-y, scary hospital reasons, but this time for health insurance, in-the-dark reasons. It’s also been really difficult feeling shitty while running (and jumping and climbing) after an almost-3-year-old. And, with no extra funds, I am not keeping up the chiropractor schedule I had last time, which really helped with this terrible ache in my hips and overstretched pain in my crotch. Now, I simply waddle because I am in pain. And since I’m a little under halfway through, I know I have more pain to come as my belly stretches to its very limits.
Some people have told me recently that I’m not really “selling pregnancy” to them. I’m not a saleswoman. I’m not here to lie to you to get you to agree to something that may not benefit you. If anything, I want to be real. Not overly negative or overly positive, because pregnancy— like life— is a little bit of both. I think pregnancy and all that comes with it needs to be more widely known information.
What My Brain Wanted to Write
There’s a lot of super valid reasons someone might choose not to bring a baby into the world including but not limited to…
Pregnancy is fucking hard. Sure it’s a miracle and it’s natural and all that, but pregnancy is also life-altering and possibly life-threatening. Body changes can be hard for those who struggle with body dysmorphia or eating disorders, as well as those who previously did not struggle. Many longterm health issues can come as a result of pregnancy. For example, developing gestational diabetes only happens during pregnancy and heightens the pregnant person’s chance of developing diabetes after pregnancy. There also seems to be a connection between pregnancy and gallbladder issues, as my own experience introduced me to many people who experienced similar situations.
Mental health is often drastically affected for varying lengths of time. Postpartum depression affects up to 20% of people who have given birth, and this statistic doesn’t include those who have had miscarriages, abortions, or stillbirths which adds to the total. And PPD is not the only post-pregnancy mental health change one could experience.
You don’t want to have a baby, like 46.9% of the female population. Periodt. Maybe you have other stuff going on, want a stable relationship, don’t have financial stability, or hate children. Whatever the reason, women should be allowed to stay child-free if they want to be.
And there are also a ton of reasons someone maybe should not bring a baby into the world for many reasons including…
If you haven’t gone to therapy.
If you hate yourself.
If you think it will “fix your marriage.”
If you’re just lonely.
If you don’t think kids deserve respect.
If you plan to just parent how you were parented “because you turned out fine.”
If you’re living in an unsafe place or with unsafe people.
If you are an unsafe person with no plans to change, or go to rehab.
If you don’t want a baby.
If you’re not willing to change and see things from a new perspective.
If you won’t love a child that turns out to be gay or trans, autistic or disabled, or otherwise different than who you wanted or preferred them to be.
“I’m on your side for the rest of your life.
You’ll never be alone, don’t you worry, my child.”
And of course…
Just because you found yourself pregnant…
Just because your religion says you should…
Just because your family wants you to…
Just because you’re in a relationship, or financially stable, or whatever!
IF YOU DON’T WANT TO, you don’t need to be pregnant.
The end. Woohoo. End of that rant.
What My Heart Wanted to Write
I don’t have to sight my sources on why someone should want a baby.
You do or you don’t.
I think there was a sort of desperation in me to start a family of my own. I’m sure there’s a mix of reasons why, with my being an adoptee, the lack of control I felt I had over my life, and the deep feeling I always have that I don’t really belong anywhere, for starters…
When I was pregnant with Oakley, I had to make the choice to leave my job since I was struggling daily with intense nausea and vomiting. Even though I had felt stuck in my job for a while, I was not motivated to leave until my doctor brought up how much stress I was under trying to manage a full classroom in my condition. Becoming a mother meant taking care of my baby and I realized I wasn’t taking very good care of me. I was more motivated to take care of Oakley than I was to take care of myself.
I have strong beliefs about love and inclusion that I want to be passed down to my son. It became increasingly concerning for me to be attending a church and having Oakley spend time with people who didn’t value what I valued. If I hadn’t become a mom, perhaps I would have continued to ignore how unsafe I felt. I was more motivated to take care of Oakley than I was to take care of myself.
I’m not saying that becoming a mom healed me, but it has revealed me to myself, the hurt child at the core. There were a lot of warning signs my body was trying to give me that I wasn’t okay, but I was not accepting any of them. I had already pushed my dreams and desires aside, already having decided that I was wrong and bad for wanting those things. When I finally realized just how hurt I was inside and how much work I needed to do to help myself heal, I felt guilty for not having myself all together before deciding to become a mom. I hadn’t even realized the depth of my adoption trauma until I was pregnant. I don’t think I could have until then. Becoming a mom helped jumpstart my healing journey in a way I don’t think would have happened otherwise.
Becoming Oakley’s mom in particular has been so wonderful. He introduces me to so much of the world I was missing before. When his eyes changed from the newborn gray to mirroring my dark chocolate eyes, I loved my eye color for the first time in my life. When he asks me to adventure outside or dance in the living room, I am reminded of how much joy I found in both of these things as a child, and I join him dancing outside with the hose. When he feels big emotions and the words he has aren’t enough to express them, I find an empathy and patience I wasn't taught to have for myself and give it to him.
And even though the song below is about the artist’s grandmother, it reminded me of Oakley in the way that we share a love for dancing with joy, feeling big feelings, and seeing the world through our big brown eyes.
“And I’m proud of my reflection
When you shine through.”
Who are we but a combination of the experiences we’ve had and the people we’ve loved?
There’s a connection between Oakley and I that fills something up in me. It fuels me to protect him. I feel more motivated than I am about anything to be a good mom to him. I’m researching boys in education, getting scared of the power of online incel groups while watching Adolescence, and trying to decide if there is even a school (that we can afford) that exists that teaches like Calypso.
I just want him to be taught all I have come to know without all the hurt and pain I have had to go through to learn it. But I know I can’t control everything. It’s hard to accept that.
“I’ll never, ever leave your side.
I will stay, I will fight
with you.”
At a farmer’s market recently, Oakley would not let go of a crocheted cat. It was $20 and not at all within the budget, but it was hot, I wanted to leave asap, and he never asks for plushies, so I caved. It resulted in bit of an argument about me spending money at craft fairs once we got home...
But last night, after 2.6 episodes of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, we hear Oak’s bedroom door open and shut. Out comes Oakley, as he usually does when he is needing to join us in our bed, but this time he had brought a friend: his new, crocheted buddy aptly named “Cat.” It must have been something about him holding onto it so tight, but my breath caught in my throat. I looked over and Zach’s eyes were also watering.
That cat was well worth the $20.
Oakley was worth all that I went through to bring him into being.
My love for Oakley is not a choice, it’s a reflex.
But my bond with him is instinctual as much as it was built.
When he was born, it felt like a part of me was living outside of my body, within him.
He is mine, but he is also all his own…
Yesterday, he tripped in his favorite sharky shoes and fell hard on his head. He cried, he held us both, he held the owl ice pack to his head and cried softly as we played Astro Bot for the 6th time, per his request.
Sometimes, while cooking, our sensitive smoke alarms go off and Oakley runs to the backyard with me. I hold him tight as he shakes.
When I pick him up during the week after a routine stay at his grandparents’ house, he runs to me and kisses me, holding me tight and wanting to share the joy of his day with me.
Sometimes, I wonder why I was in such a rush to have a family. Why was I so obsessed with next steps? Why did I want kids so quickly? But other days, like today and the past few, I feel so full of joy, I couldn’t ask for anything else.
I will keep living for me, for my dreams and my passions. But I will also live for him.
And when I wake up every morning and go to sleep every night, cuddled in a bed of all my favorite people (and our favorite dog), I feel a peace and a sense of belonging like never before.
Last night, with Oak’s arms held tightly around Cat and my hand on my belly, I had tears streaming down my face. One happened to run right behind my ear. And I pictured it becoming a pen I would use to wake up and write about this gift I hope to always feel thankful for: being their mom.
“My human heart
Only got a human heart”
Weekly Subscriptions & Cancellations💁🏽♀️
the ideas and soundtracks I want running in my head, or not.
🙋🏽♀️SUBSCRIBED to:
Farmer’s Markets!! There’s a cute little one in Surprise and a big one at Park West!
Pedicures with my dad :)
Healing & reframing
🤦🏽♀️UNSUBSCRIBED from:
AI. Pay an artist instead.
Our garage being broken for the last two weeks. I became way too acquainted with the ant hills in our front yard.
Whoever hangs mirrors so high up, I can’t even reach on my tippy toes
Anti-vaxxers. Like, come on, guys.
🌻Show & Tell: A Craft🌻
A tired, but hopeful sun I drew on a paper plate
Time for some TLCCC💕
Treating myself to: Some fun treats at the Farmer’s Market!
Listening to: I ❤️ Billy Joel’s lyrics.
Crafting: painting tote bags! Bless up, my crafty gals!
Craving: sweet stuff. Still strawberries. But also carrots? (Which is super hilarious to me because in the Sims, you can make your pregnant Sim give birth to a girl by eating strawberries and a boy by eating carrots.)
Caring SO much about: Oakley not having to unlearn so many unhelpful, painful messaging from the evangelical church like I did.
Oakley is so lucky to have you as a mom! 💗