The happiness of motherhood is not always cloudless. We continue to publish real stories of moms whom they have no one to share. Today, in our rubric, the story of the imperfect mother of two children, Paige from Texas, who was able to honestly admit that she no longer wants to have children and talks about why you should not be ashamed of it.
I watched her squeeze through the door with a pram in one hand and a screaming child who wanted to play with my boys in the other. We were on the same level with her - age is different, but the life stages are the same. We have children of the same age, well, and for her, by virtue of my age, I am the source of information, experience and advice. On the one hand, it makes me a little nervous, but on the other - it makes me slightly smack of pride.
She had a hard time, and she needed support andsomeone'swisdom. But insomemoment I felt that there is moresomethingwhat she is silent about. And I decided to go to the end.
What happened? She laughs wearily and says: "Well, I'm pregnant." Laughs again. I have an instant reaction: "Lord! Congratulations!" But looking at her face, I saw only fatigue. The impression that others received this news with less enthusiasm than she expected.
We talked about it for a long time. She is a wonderful mother and friend, but apparently she really needed to hear that she was not a fool. That everything is normal. More than normal. Three kids - what's crazy?
When she went to her room, and my boys went to sleep, I felt fear creep inside. I tried to drown him when she poured her news on me, but he did not want to be silent. "You are a weakling. You are not strong, as you have always believed. You are weak. And so everyone thinks.Etc.etc." Onsometime I plunged into the meaning of these words.
To tell the truth, another child in my not so huge family (yes, two boys) seemed frightening to me, and I could not share it with anyone. I just thought that if I didn’t think and talk about it, I would stop worrying and fearing.
It is a little strange that the annoying thought of another child crept in at the change when the expert in this matter was to appear among the neighbors. But I didn’t blame other women, only myself.
BysomeFor this reason, I thought that my personality of a strong, independent woman, wife, mother would be moldy if I had more than two children around my neck. It sounds silly, but it is. And in this I felt my weakness.
I always thought that I wanted at least three children. I had one sister, but the thought of another sister or brother was incredibly pleased. When my husband and I got married, he said he wanted tosix seven. Considering that he himself was the only child in the family, his mother almost suffered a blow from such a statement, so she had a serious constructive conversation with him.
A couple of years passed and we decided that it was time to have a baby. And I knew long before that moment that the child will appear with us when we both decide that the time has come, and notdue tomy maternal instinct. I hope that doesn't sound very rude. Yes, I wanted to be a mom and have kids, but I never hadsomean irresistible desire to quickly acquire offspring. I was just sure that the time would come.
And here it is. Or not. For a few more years, we struggled with "inexplicable sterility." The tests were normal, but it was impossible to get pregnant. It is difficult and painful, but this is our story.
So, month after month, I remained a wife, but did not become a mother. I hadsomemixed feelings - disappointment and ... relief. And plus to everything - shame. Shame that even though I was genuinely upset that I wasn’t getting pregnant, I breathed easier without this maternal responsibility.
In the end, we were lucky, and I realized that I was pregnant. From our small neighborhood company, we were the first parents, so the universal joy was very pleasant to us. We decided not to recognize the sex of the child before his birth, but I really wanted a boy.
It is the day of birth. Our baby Eliot was born, a beautiful child. Already at 7 months, he slept all night, almost did not cry, and if he began to whimper, it was for an important reason. He felt well on the hands of others, was calm and peaceful. Then, however, began to bite himsome kinda fly after 40 minutes of sleep, and it became a little more problematic.
I love him. But it was hard for me. And this is understandable - it is always difficult with children. Even if they are good and calm. Being a mom is very difficult, no matter how beautiful it is.
But onsomeBecause of this, mothers often do not want to admit this. As if it is a shame.We seem weak, or, God forbid, we consider ourselves as bad moms. I was lucky - my "difficult" was not the most difficult. I just did not understand.
My husband and I decided that we want children with a small difference in age. And less than a year later, I was pregnant with my second child.
The boy was born again, as I hoped. But this time our baby Jude didn’t work for us, and flatly refused to sleep at night. Otherwise, he, too, was so quiet and not crying that people even asked how we could make such quiet children. Probably God knew that we simply were not ready forsomethingmore complicated.
And this is another reason for my shame. If I had a hard time with children who are “light” in all respects, how could I cope withsomethingmore complicated?
ATsomeThe moment I got the idea that there are just better mothers. Well, of course, I did not belong to this category of “better mothers”. I am caring but not gentlemother-queen. I am responsible, hardworking, reliable and resilient. But as soon as these two little men appear on the horizon, my endurance is blown away by a light breeze. And along with it, it blows away my old thought about three or more children.
But the fear that I am not a very good mother stayed with me, no matter how hard it blew and blown away. Fear that I'm a weakling.
Months went by, people all said that it was time for us and the third, and I was already beginning to panic at the thought. Fear was increasingly mixed with shame. I do not know why I took it that my abilities as mothers are equal to the number of children in my arms. This is ridiculous.
One night, when the children would not let us rest, and we were terribly exhausted, I asked my husband in tears what he thought about the third. I needed an honest answer.Someuncertainty and reticence on this topic just ate me.Somewheredeep down, I probably decided that if he wants one more, then we must start another one.
He sat down and looked at me, honestly admitting that he would not pull another one. We will not pull. I burst into tears.
I could not believe how much relief I felt when I heard his answer. Nearby there were no relatives, and the work took him a lot of time and effort. He told me: "I want to be a good dad for our children. And for these two boys I have enough, but I don’t know if I have enough for one more."
We continued to talk, and it became easier and freer for me.
This is our family. Notsomeone's. And these are our decisions. If ato someonethey don't like them - their problems. We are already happy parents.
I always mentally returned to this conversation. When I doubted myself, like my mother. When I thought that my maternal power is directly proportional to the number of children. When I confessed that I have only two.
And so, what is the truth. We are all good mothers. Being good does not mean never showing weakness. Or fitsomeformat. This is your family, notsomeone's. These are your decisions, notsomeone's. This is what God has given you, and this is a gift.
So, if you have one child or seven, it does not make you better or worse. You are you. With your strengths and weaknesses. With their victories and defeats. With times of angelic patience and sometimes devilish temper. Drop all conventions, shame and sympathy.