The mind map of things I want to talk about in this post is insane. It may end up being multiple posts, or writing it out may simplify and unify my thoughts.* We'll see. I'm typing this on my laptop while lying down on the bed next to Baby Elle, because she will not nap alone any more. She used to. But she doesn't any more. The laptop's brightness is turned down as far it'll go before the screen goes black. The screen is at a forty-five degree downward angle and turned away from Elle to keep the light off her face. I'm typing slowly so the sound of the keys doesn't wake her. I keep making typos because I can't see the keyboard that well.
But yeah, let me talk about why I don't necessarily recommend having kids. Boomers are known for all the negative "just wait until" statements regarding babies, and as a reaction, I think millennials have pendulum-swung really far the other direction, mainly highlighting the good parts of having babies.
I'm going to assume that you know I'm not a monster. I'm assuming you know how profoundly grateful I am that God finally answered years of prayer by giving us a baby. I assume you know that I love my baby a mind-blowing amount, and that I would not say I regret having her.
However, the fact that all of that is true and I'm still writing a post thusly titled means that parenthood has been a lot worse than I anticipated. Not just "harder." Worse. Right now, my life is undeniably WORSE than it was pre-baby. Technically speaking, Elle has ruined my life. I say that without anger, and without ascribing malice to my sweet baby. Every single thing about my life has been taken away from me. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't work, I can't watch TV. I can't work out. I can't write. I can't hang out with my husband. I can't go to the movies. I can't shower. My clothes don't fit the same. My house isn't clean. I can't crack my knuckles. I can't open the microwave. I can't poop.
Elle is almost seven months old and she gets up anywhere from 5–10 times a night on a good night, to 20+ times on a bad night. She gets put down at 7:30pm, and it's hell until between 5–6am when we give up and cosleep. We've tried putting her down awake, putting her down asleep, nursing her to sleep, separating the bedtime feed from sleep with a diaper change, different volumes of the sound machine, different pajamas/sleep sacks, mittens, different house temperatures, starting with a paci, not starting with a paci, using a paci if she gets fussy, longer wake windows, shorter wake windows, holding her for twenty minutes while she's asleep and then putting her down, letting her cry for a little while, me putting her down, Gabe putting her down, curtains, nightlight, shorter bedtime routine, longer bedtime routine, rocking her to sleep, holding her stationary to sleep, holding her upright to fall asleep, holding her horizontal to fall asleep, more daytime sleep, less daytime sleep. Nothing has made a difference. Sometimes she has good nights (awake 5–10 times), but those have been few and far between for weeks.
Not all babies are like this. Lots of people have easy first babies. In fact, I've heard MOST people's first babies are easy, so if you're expecting, don't freak out.
But here's the thing: you just don't know what you're gonna get. Gabe and I wanted kids so badly, both of us did. I cannot IMAGINE how much worse this would feel if just one of us had been at all on the fence. If you and your partner are debating, or if one of you wants kids and the other doesn't, do not have kids. I don't mean to brag, but Gabe and I have a good marriage. We've spent years changing for each other. We communicate really well. We sacrifice for each other. We're on the same page about parenting philosophies. Gabe is a one-in-a-billion partner. And it still sucks. Because of Elle's sleep chaos, we never get to hang out with each other. I'm not even talking about sexy time; I'm talking about being able to watch a 22-minute episode of a sitcom uninterrupted. If our marriage wasn't ROCK FREAKING SOLID, we would have been CRUSHED under the weight of the suckiness.
I know we have people who would babysit. Several things: Elle won't take a bottle. We're kind of ridiculous about how we want her talked to/treated. She recently has some separation anxiety and will sometimes bloodcurdlingly scream for minutes upon minutes if without us.
I have a post draft called "Biggest Fears" that I started before Elle was born. One of them was that the labor mantra of "you'll meet your baby soon" would have the opposite of its intended effect on me. People say that to encourage you, but even while pregnant, I knew that life with a baby might suck. To Pregnant Stephanie, "you'll get to meet your baby soon" sounded a lot like "you'll get to be sleep deprived, forcibly selfless, never do your own thing again, and stop having people say you're glowing."
And I was right. I was blessed with such an easy pregnancy that postpartum has only been worse. I never got uncomfortable. I loved being pregnant. Having a belly was a vibe. Having a baby is a massive inconvenience.
Do I regret having a baby? No. I love her so much. I'm obsessed with how cute and happy she is. She's a joy. She's the sweetest baby angel.
But am I going to go around telling people they should have kids? HELL NO?! If you don't want this with every fiber of your being, if you aren't willing to have your life ruined, if you don't think your marriage could withstand literal torture, then don't do it. Don't do it. Enjoy your life. Sleep. Eat food while it's hot. Go to the movies. Sit down and stay sitting down. Get a dog.
Is there joy? Of COURSE. But I can't "recommend" having kids because I don't know you intimately enough to make that call.
I think that's more what it boils down to. Having kids is such a personal decision. I've always known that—and been adament that it's rude for anyone to ask someone when they're going to have kids—but now I understand how personal the choice is on a whole 'nother level. It's not just rude to assume you know having children is the right thing for someone else; it's impossible for you to know.
You just need to be sure. I get the biological clock thing, which is a big reason why Gabe and I started trying earlier rather than later, but we were already SURE we wanted kids, eventually.
Cassidy keeps telling me she'll be interested to see how my perspective on this changes. I'll be interested too. I really hope I look back on this stage of motherhood and I can smile knowing that it got better and was so worth it. I hope it gets so much better and feels SO worth it that I can stand the thought of doing it again. I assume I will. And maybe at that point, I WILL recommend having kids. It's definitely a way to find out what you're made of. It's just also a risk for that same reason.
I dunno, man. Life sucks right now. It SUCKS. I know I post the happy stuff to Facebook, and none of it is a lie, there's just a lot Else that goes on too.
So yeah. Don't have kids. Or do. I can't tell you.
~Stephanie
* It did not do that. If anything this post is MORE rambling and less coherent than I anticipated. But that's pretty much in keeping with the theme of this post.
