For a few years in my mid-twenties, the thought of becoming a mom felt foreign. I stood vehemently opposed, citing everything from climate change to “ruining my body” to finances as reasons why it just doesn’t make sense to be a parent, to bring new life into this world, to have a child.
It just doesn’t make sense, I’d think, driving home from work, the Coachella Valley mountains fixed permanently ahead.
“It just doesn’t make sense,” I’d preach to friends on the phone, still sweating from shoveling out my Brighton driveway.
What happens next is that you fall in love. With people: the campers humming on their way to the dining hall for dinner; the strangers holding their children’s hands on the T; the friends dreaming about buying a house or getting a better job or just being better.
With a place: the bricks lining the sidewalks; the sun sliding off Somerville rooftops; the harsh kindness from passersby.
With a person: the curls and blue eyes soundtracking my days.
Falling in love makes everything feel easy, makes everything make sense. And it does, and it will, and I’ll fall in love all over again with a little boy in May.
And still, I didn’t expect the questions and judgment, the offhand comments of “so soon!” and “we thought you’d wait a while before trying!” The worst, from an older woman I work with closely: “Didn’t you just get married last year?”
In response, I sometimes get snarky. Sometimes, I get sad. Who would have thought that, at 31 years-old, with all my resume bullets to throw around (and all the justification that doesn’t even include “endless love to give”), I’d have to defend this decision? Or worse, shrug and laugh and say, “it happened much quicker than we thought!”
This is the first foray with being a mom, I know. The first dance with meaningless judgments, with people who think they would do better. It’s an exercise in patience, in trusting myself, and in stubborn optimism. A way of looking at the world and making the decision to see the good more than the not-so-good, forever and ever, amen.
Tears fall as your beautiful words flow through me. Please, for the betterment of the world and mankind, keep writing.
As for judgement on motherhood, isn't it wild how early it begins? Next come the judgmental looks while you abandon your cart in the middle of Costco and carry a screaming (overtired) infant out to the car to feed him. Sounds like you have the best attitude and frame of mind already. Your baby boy is oh so lucky. I'm oh so lucky.