Welcome to yet another ‘‘1,001 possible permutations of olives’ future’’ thread. The topic of the day is parenthood.
My husband and I are both really anxious to have kids. We have agreed to adopt, and though we haven’t quite worked out the details yet, we’re looking into adopting through the foster system which may involve becoming parents of a child or children who need a high degree of support, patience, and time. We feel we will be able to handle children with psychological problems or special needs due to abusive or neglectful backgrounds. I say ‘‘child or children’’ because many kids in the system have siblings and have been separated for quite some time. We feel it is best for siblings to live together. So adopting a younger child together with an older sibling is not out of the question.
Currently we are both students, so this is hypothetical at present. I’m graduating next year with an M.S.W. and he will have another three years to go (the third year being a paid internship but not enough to support a family) for his Ph.D. in clinical psychology. We’ve considered something like the Fost-Adopt program or looking into adoption subsidy to supplement his paltry income during internship year, but we still have a lot to work out financially before we move forward.
Anyway, whether we start the process in one year or three, it became apparent that given the range of issues any incoming kid might have, someone is probably going to need to be a full-time parent for at least a while. Despite our leeriness of falling into traditional gender role attitudes, I volunteered for this.
What a weird leap that was for me. I’ve always been a very career-oriented person. I had never even considered it until it fell out of my mouth during last week’s conversation, and I realize that is how badly I want to have kids. There is only so much you can think about only yourself and your identity and your needs and your wants before it gets tiresome. We have so much love in this house, it seems like we are just aching to expand the capacity of that love. It almost seems like a waste for us to have so much love and not share it with kids who really need it.
But I admit I have a very one-dimensional viewpoint of what it means to be a SAHM. I picture someone doing nothing all day but cooking and cleaning, socially isolated, disengaged from current events and the world at large, that old 1950s archetype of an unhappy, oppressed woman. I realize this is patently ridiculous, as some of the most happy and fulfilled people I have met were/are stay at home mothers, but I really don’t have anything concrete to replace the stereotype with.
So I ask anyone with this experience, particularly those who perceived themselves as career-driven before taking the plunge, what’s it like? Did you find a way to make time for yourself? Did you lose your sense of identity? Did you enjoy it? Was it worth it?
Also, have you ever had to defend your decision not to work to family members, friends or random people off the street? Did it affect the way you were treated by others?
Did it change your marriage?
I’m looking for any and all experiences, good or bad. I just want to get a feel for what it’s really like.
With Utmost Gratitude as Always,
Christy