From Child-free by Choice to Hearing a Voice

Dear Olivia Marie,

Today you are 3 years old. You are really interested in stories and want to hear one every night, so here’s the story that explains how you came to be...When two people love each other, they....maybe not that part of the story.

Once upon a time, Mommy and Daddy decided to not ever have kids. There are several reasons why and all of them are valid. I won’t go into them here, but I do want you to remember that having a child should be a choice you make when the time is right. But I’ll love you and support you if you have one when the time is less than preferred. I’ll also buy you birth control (actually it might be free....I’ll have to check).  But I digress...

Mommy and Daddy knew that having a child would add so much more expense and hassle to our lives and decided to opt out. After all, people seem so happy once their children are grown and out of the house.....it made better sense to skip the years where the children live at home and just keep an empty nest.

But every once in a while your daddy would say “Having kids might not be so bad. It might actually be a little fun.”  And then I would respond in some form or fashion of “Nope.”

Then one day, at the Commodore Theatre, daddy once again made his case and had a reasonable argument against every reason I gave to not have kids. It was very frustrating because his points were correct and it was obvious that I was making a fear based decision and that’s really no way to live. We discussed how we may regret never having children, but would never regret having one once he/she arrived. 

So we got pregnant on the first try. And then that baby didn’t make it past the first trimester. Then nothing happened for a while. I lost the nervous excitement I originally had at the beginning of the process. We had time to think about all the great reasons we had to remain child-free and decided that we wouldn’t go through with the whole baby thing anymore.

And then the weirdest thing happened. This is going to sound crazy, but I promise it is true. 

I was in our home office (which now doubles as your playroom) working on a graduate school paper and had a mental block. I was unable to complete my work and I said out loud “Why can’t I get this done?!” and although I was completely alone, I heard a voice say “You’re missing it.” 

Two thoughts crossed my mind: 1) I’m missing what? 2)Who the (bleep) said that? “You’re missing it” the voice said again.....then I got a feeling in my chest- a tingling sensation. And in an instant, I knew I had to keep trying for a baby. It was as if the desire for motherhood was put in place by some supernatural force. It was weird. But it happened and I couldn’t ignore it.

Over the next few months, I tried to reason this experience away, but the truth is what it is and I couldn’t brush it off.

Months later, I dreamed that I took a positive pregnancy test. Then a few weeks later, in the spring of 2013, it happened for real. I poured your dad a beer and put the test stick beside it. We were afraid to get too excited because of the miscarriage the year before, but somehow I knew this was going to go differently. And sure enough on December 19, 2013, you arrived.

The love, pride, and joy we feel for you far outweigh the negative aspects of parenthood.

We are so glad you are here.

You, my friend, were divinely inspired.

Love, Mommy

Smile and say Hello....and absolutely nothing else.

Dear Olivia Marie,

Last weekend, you and I went to the Botanical Gardens because you wanted to play with the kitchen set in the World of Wonder area and I wanted to leave the house. It wasn’t warm, but it was warm enough to justify being outside with a toddler on a Sunday morning. I fully expected to have the whole place to ourselves- but surprisingly there were quite a few other moms and toddlers there.

Other mothers wearing the same legging/tunic/cardigan outfit combo that I wore; several other toddlers walking around wondering why the splash pad was dry and discovering other ways to enjoy the area. 

There we all were, giving each other a polite good morning grin & nod and then pretending we didn’t see each other for the rest of the time. After this same baseline exchange of pleasantries was observed for an hour or so, the thought struck me: Why are we pretending to ignore each other?

Are we afraid of judgment because we have our children outside on a chilly day?

Are we embarrassed that we are choosing to enjoy nature instead of packing ourselves and children into the newest trendy church that meets in a school?

Did we all assume the garden would be vacant, so we didn’t get all dolled up in preparation to socialize?

Can’t you see that we already have several things in common just by being in this exact place in this exact moment?

We are all living off of LuLaRoe and dry shampoo! That’s enough of a conversation starter to pass the time while our children play together. But wait....our children aren’t playing together. Perhaps they can sense the way we are keeping our distance from one another.  We are preventing ourselves from becoming friends AND blocking our children from important social interactions.

Don’t you know that we need each other!? Don’t you know that it takes a village!? Don’t you know that your worries for your child are the same as mine!? Don’t you realize that we have the opportunity to discuss mutual concerns and share unique excitements if only all we would more fully acknowledge one another!?

I tried to engage with one mother and child while we sat directly across from each other in swings, but it didn’t take.

You and I had a nice time together, eventually caught the tram, and went home.  But the questions from that morning are still in my mind and I'm sure there is a lesson in there somewhere for us both. 

I’m hoping that I can teach you to be inclusive and reach out to others when the chances are given to you...but that’s so far out of my comfort zone that I probably won’t practice what I preach. Maybe I can teach you something else instead. 

Love,  

Mommy

Just a lovely fall walk.....

Dear Olivia Marie,

We took a walk this evening. You wanted to play in the backyard and not take a walk, so the compromise was that you could walk beside me pushing your baby in the toy stroller while I pushed your car in case you wanted to ride if you got tired of walking. Some compromises are worth making. This one...not so much.

You stopped walking every few feet,

To adjust the baby doll.... I reminded myself that the point of the walk is to get out of the house and enjoy the evening (turns out that it’s not an enjoyable evening......it’s still hot, humid, and there are mosquitoes.)

To put the baby doll in the car..... I reminded myself that the walk is about the journey and not the destination.

To pick up a stick.....I reminded myself that you are still young enough to find joy in things like sticks in the street and that I should savor every moment because you are growing up quickly.

To look at a crack in the cement.......I reminded myself that there are lessons I could learn as an adult from watching your innocence and wonder in the small details that I don’t even notice anymore.

To look at the Halloween decor a neighbor put out (way too early, btw)....I reminded myself that I am thankful to live in a safe, nice area where we can take a worry-free walk around the block.

To strap the baby doll in.....I reminded myself that this slow a*$ walk is still more exercise than sitting and watching tv.

To count the pumpkins on the neighbor’s porch.....I reminded myself that deep breaths can help calm my mind when I feel anxiety starting to creep up.

To literally stop and smell the flowers.....I reminded myself that this walk is not going to burn any calories and I really want a glass of wine when you go to bed.

To get in the car and then out of the car.....I reminded myself that losing my mind is not a helpful experience for you, myself, or the people sitting on the porch across the street.

To....oh no, I lost it. Now you are crying and I feel bad. Maybe pointing out the airplane or the squirrel will distract you from lamenting your fortune of having me as a mother. When we get home I’ll make those frozen chicken nuggets again and continue this thing called motherhood like a real champ.

I’ll do better tomorrow.....fingers crossed.

Love,

Mommy

Equipment dilemma

Dear Olivia Marie,

I’m having a bit of trouble. I am physically unable to remove the changing pad that has been on your dresser for nearly three years. It’s not heavy or stuck to the top.....it’s just that I can’t take it down. My arms just won’t do it and my heart can’t handle the weight.

Your dresser drawer that used to hold the diapers, wipes, and butt paste  (yes, that’s the actual name of the product.....it’s a must have by the way) is now filled with Frozen and Peppa Pig undies. But I can’t take your changing pad off of the top of your dresser. We haven’t used it for months, and it’s really in the way. It’s time to replace it with a container to store your hair clips and maybe a little lamp.

All of your other baby items were replaced without much sadness and sometimes even with excitement....the highchair was replaced with a booster seat, your infant car seat is now a convertible front-facing ride, your swing is at your baby cousin's house, and where your pack in play was now stands a tot-sized table and chairs for coloring and Playdoh. None of those changes in "equipment" caused me pause...you outgrew them and they were removed, simple enough.  But this is the last baby thing in the house.

I remember walking into your nursery when we were waiting for you to arrive. I would take out the newborn clothes and imagine placing you on the changing pad and getting you dressed in the tiny outfits we chose. I remember taking out the first newborn diaper we got from a freebie bag at the doctor's office & just laughing because it was so small. And then you were there, actually there, lying on the changing pad and those times we had imagined were happening. That changing pad was a good indicator of every growth spurt as your little legs eventually extended past the edge and onto the dresser.  And then one day, instead of carrying you and lying you down on it while I dried you off after your bath, you asked to walk to your room. You held the edge of your towel and walked down the hallway while I followed. You sat on the bed and put your pajamas on by yourself while I just watched, trying not to provide too much help. Suddenly, the days of dressing you and changing you on that sacred spot were gone. It now just takes up space in your room. It’s time to let you have it as a toy for changing your baby dolls’ diapers. You are still in many ways a baby.....but not in this way any longer.

I guess I’ll go move it now......and then we can go pick out that lamp.

Love,

Mommy

Mothers- Real Role Models

Dear Olivia Marie,

It's Mother's Day and it's safe to say that in my brief time of mothering an easy(ish) only child, I do not have the wisdom nor experience to sum up what it means to be a mom in one lovely paragraph. But I have decided that being a mom for me can currently best be described as joyous agony. The pure love I feel for you is so heavy sometimes it hurts. I read a quote once that described having a child is to have your heart walking around on the outside of your body. That's true. Part of this weight of motherhood is the concern that as you grow up, you won't see yourself the way I see you. That you will look outside of yourself for role models and set yourself up for failure as you try to emulate a false perfection seen in celebrities. We all do it as young girls and it doesn't do us any good. 

In the spirit of Mother's Day, here is a little bit of information about who you are and where you come from. 

This is your NeNe. She raised three boys who are all very respectable men and responsible fathers. Your own daddy is such a great man because of this beautiful woman. She has an incredibly sweet spirit and loves her family like crazy. She knows what it means to sacrifice, to work hard for little money, and how to forgive. 

"NeNe" Donna

This is your DeeDee. She has the spirit of a mother and chose to use that spirit to care for her own mother when she became ill at far too young of an age. DeeDee stepped up to be a mother for her own. The love, care, and concern that mothers have for their children pours from her heart onto you and your aunts and uncles. 

"DeeDee" Dottie

This is your Grana. She raised five children and is an example of how motherhood doesn't end once the babies are grown. She is patient, loving, long-suffering, and a great story teller. She knows heartbreak and how to rise above it and become stronger and happier from the struggle. Your Grana believes that faith can get you through anything.....and it's a little difficult to disagree with her based on her track record of praying for things and then getting results. (For example, you exist) 

"Grana" Dana

You are also fortunate to have many great-grandmas. All of these women have worked hard to help support their families, lived through times of struggle and peace, and raised the people who raised the people who are raising you. 

Grandma Great Sandra

Great Grandma Bradley

                                                      

Grandma Great Betty

     

Great Grandma Jo

So you see, you don't need to look to outside sources for role models. When you look in the mirror, these are the women who shine through your eyes. These are women with strength, intelligence, love, patience, beauty inside and out, and you have their qualities within you. Realize that although you don't come from wealth and fame, you come from truth and faith and mothers who have, through their imperfections, lived lives of purpose. That's something to emulate. 

Love, 

Mommy 

                       

The light

Dear Olivia Marie,
 
Can you see it?
 
It's there in the distance.
 
It's a little closer today than it was yesterday.
 
It's the light at the end of the tunnel.
 
You see for a little over two years now, you have demanded requested my presence for every.single.thing you've done. This has involved me following you, carrying you, piggybacking you, sitting with you, playing with you for two solid years. You are now able to cutely request that I "hold you me" or "show me mommy", which is preferable to the fussing sound you used to make. However, two years is a bit of a stretch for the constantness with which you have wanted me next to you.

But this morning.....

This morning you asked for water. I explained that your water cup was in your bedroom and that you should go get it. AND YOU DID. Without asking me to come with you! Without asking me to "show me mommy"! Without fussing because the light was off. Without asking me to assist in any form or fashion. You just looked at me, said "Ok, mommy", went into your room and brought your cup out and said "I found my water."

It's the littlest things that remind me that this uberdependant stage is passing and before I know it, you'll be far less interested in what I'm doing and far less interested in having me tag along with you.
When that day comes, I'm certain that I'll miss your little voice asking me to "come with me, mommy." I'm equally certain that I'll enjoy listening to you play by yourself in your room while I get ready for work in the morning, instead of asking you to please stop standing on my feet while I'm drying my hair.

That light is getting closer. But for now, I'll get back to enjoying the ride through the tunnel, even though some of the tiles are dirty. It really is a miraculous feat of engineering.

Love, Mommy