To be or not to be...a parent.

I figure that if the children are alive when I get home, I've done my job. ~ Roseanne Barr

 

Reflecting on my experience as a mom arouses so many deep rooted emotions that are sometimes hard to swallow or even acknowledge. I was definitely not ready to be a mom at 19... I didnt have much direction from my parents on how to be a responsible adult, let alone be a mom. I can still remember the sheer look of disappointment on their faces when I told them the news and how I felt marked with that scarlet letter of shame. Not much changed out in public while a baby was toting around a baby...grocery stores, doctors visits...friends.

The day I had my oldest,  I put on a big smile and happy face for all the visitors that came and went, but I remember not wanting to hold him and not having any emotional connection to him at all. This made me feel guilty because instinctively I knew that this thing was supposed to be the love of my life. He was a part of me...the fruit of my loins, but I somehow resented the very fact that he was there. That night, after everyone was gone and it was just me and him, I forced myself to hold him...to inspect him...to soak in the miracle before me. Tears began to stream down my face as the warmth of love I felt for this tiny little creature filled my heart.

It is a very weird emotional dilemma to have unconditional love for a child and have the desires to dick around like the rest of your friends. On the outside, you portray enthusiasm to be the best mom ever and prove every one wrong on the baby raising babies theory, but on the inside, you are tormented on the life lost and the adventures not taken with your premature responsibility endeavor. (The funny part is...I never realized that this was how I was feeling until years down the road.)

I didnt just stop there. Nooooo! I did it again and was knocked up on my 21st birthday. While all my friends were out getting legally shit-faced on their birthdays, I was at home, sitting on the couch stuffing my face with junk food cravings. Oddly enough tho, I was in love with being pregnant with my daughter. There was some sort of extra estrogenized hormone therapy going on inside that gave me delight. After she was born tho...depression was starting to sink back in. Maybe not depression...maybe just resentment that kept me from fully engulfing them with love. I didnt neglect them, mind you...they had food, baths, diapers changed, affection and other essentials...my mind was just always on me. How MY needs werent being met yet these little shits got all of theirs... LOL. maaaaan...so selfish! 

I had my third at 24. Having a baby, at this point, was kind of routine. I didnt have to learn how to change a diaper or make a bottle or support the neck...because now it was all so engrained. But ooooh holy shit...having 3 kids is insane ( i cant imagine having more). They ALL need your attention ALL of the time. While I did love each of them and tried to be good by them, I still felt so detached. I hadnt quite figured out how to juggle parenthood and find my place in society. I neglected myself and my needs. Hell...I didnt even know who myself was nor what the hell I needed! I was completely lost. 

Then...life drastically changed. Enough was enough with my love life (an entirely different chapter in my book)  and I became a single mom of 3 in '08. It was like I suddenly woke up and saw outside the box for a change. Finding the compass I so desperately needed soon followed...