I keep running across the idea of “Ive wanted kids my whole life!” and “My life just wasnt complete without kids!” Followed by, “I loved him before he was born,” or “I fell in love the instant I saw him/her.”
It took me..oh..a good month or so.
Maybe I am freakish. I mean, it is very very possible that Im the weird one, here.
So many women talk about how when their baby was born they couldnt stop crying tears of joy. Or that they kissed them and held them and felt this surge of love.
Heck, when they handed the Little Dark Lord to me initially, I thought, “OH GOD WHAT IF I DROP IT?”
…actually, that’s pretty much what I thought the entire time i was in the hospital. The hospital where I delivered doesnt even HAVE a nursery – every mother rooms in, which is awesome. But, they got me and the kid upstairs and settled and then mom went home and I stared at the closed door, left all alone with this little tiny fragile scary thing.
I ended up cosleeping with him in the crock of my arm all night (well, the whole 3 or 4 hours I actually had to rest..and could actually sleep) and woke up every 10 minutes to make sure he was breathing.
You know, I always rolled my eyes whenever people talked about doing that, and now here I am, sneaking into the bedroom during long nap times, just in case.
But, still, I wasnt overwhelmingly in love with him right off. I wasnt swept away with joy and completeness. The kid was born. He was squirmy and floppy and terrifying.
That’s why when people talk about wanting another baby SO BAD, or wanting to hold a newborn, or how wonderful newborns are, that I try not to snort. That’s why, when people, like Amber Benson (and wouldnt you think she would know better?) start talking to me about the next one, and how many I want, I just end up staring at them blankly.
I love my kid.
But, why is it so much ANYONE ELSE’S BUSINESS if we have another one? Why does THE SCHOOL PLUMBER feel like he can chuckle condescendingly and say, “Oh, you’ll change your mind,” when I say I currently have no interest in having another baby? I still remember labor – or no, I DONT remember labor, in parts, and that freaks me out. I remember being pregnant and seasick for four straight months. I remember being alone on a hospital bed, gagging into a basin from pain, while my midwife and my mother chatted about knitting and Brandus was running around Pants in a panic, self medicating.
If I dont want to go through that again, it’s my own damn business.
Could I change my mind? Sure, maybe. But that’s MY choice, dammit.
So, the school plumber, principal, native guys, women online – you can all kiss my ass.