I don’t have kids of my own because during the primo years for reproduction for me, I did not think that I would be a good father. I thought it would be quite unfair for a little weezer to have me for a dad.
Once I grew up enough to have confidence in myself, I was too old to start from scratch. So I inherited stepkids. There have been some rocky, rocky times but they are both turning out reasonably well. Both of them have told me that they wish I had been their bio dad, so I must have done something right along the way.
Wow! Hard to top that. Congratulations. I hope everything comes out ok…er… I mean, best wishes.
I have definitely been terrified. I remember the day my son was born, he was having a hard time breathing and the nurses didn’t seem to be worried about it. He just seemed so small and helpless and I wanted to be able to fix it and I couldn’t.
I also remember the way I felt when I got a call at work that he was in the ER because he had burned his hands. He was one. Terrified doesn’t cut it.
Terrified’s not the word I would use to describe it, but I’m definitely uneasy about the idea, and even had to face the reality of being a father for a few months. I had a paternity test about three months after he was born, though, and found out he wasn’t mine.
I was shaking with relief after I got the results, but have to admit that those three months weren’t terrible. Putting up with his mother was a lot worse than anything, and I pity him for the parents he has. As bad a dad as I think I would have been, the father he actually has is going to be a lot worse.
I’m glad to have it affirmed that I’m not the only person who’s been uneasy about the whole idea. I like being able to stay up as late as I want and go where I like. I like kids too, though.
We’re still talking a couple more years before we’d even think about trying though. I’ll have a little more time to mature.
I was 6 months pregnant and at my baby shower was afraid to touch the baby that attended. I was certain I was going to want to stay in the hospital for 18 years. I stressed out about how at most, I could only be there 48 hours. My friends mocked us for having the least child-friendly home ever, and eagerly awaited our first “oh shit, a baby!” yard sale. I ripped out all the carpet and installed laminate flooring because I was terrified of what might live in the carpet. I panicked regularly. I had no idea how to change a diaper.
COMPLETE and total fear.
I was pacing the floors about 6 hours after my daughter was born, ready to get the fuck out of the hospital. I had my kid, my kid was fine and I was ready to go. I was standing by the door waiting for the required 48 hours to pass, ready to leave the second they would let me. I couldn’t fathom why the nurse kept wanting to check on me, I was fine, I wasn’t a patient, my baby was. What’s the problem? Get me out of here.
Went home with a 4lb 12 oz baby and well, the rest is history. She survived, I survived, breastfeeding was a cakewalk, I despised switching to formula (bottles sucked).
I will warn you however, when my milk came in at 4am, I woke up my husband and threatened to kill him if he didn’t find a pump, a plunger ANYTHING to get it out of me. Overnight, my boobs doubled in size, at least. (No, he couldn’t touch them)
Babies are terrifying and tiny and fragile but still oh-so-noisy. No, thank you.
Also, I know I was a terrible baby. I cried non-stop for the first several months of my life, and cost my parents thousands of dollars after insurance for various things (specialists, hospital stays, special formula, more specialists, surgery, etc). That, obviously, was years before the speech therapy, IEP hassles, bullying, and inevitable head-shrinkers. I can’t imagine having a child with any form of “special needs” and not resenting them - which must be a terrible position for a parent. (My parents say that only a non-parent would think that; I say regardless, I’m never going to take that risk).
This won’t make any sense, but there isn’t really any difference. I know parents who resent their incredibly intelligent, stunningly beautiful children and I know others who don’t seem to even be aware of the “special” needs of their children.
Of course, that’s anecdotal, but I can easily see how your parents would be very thankful for having a whelp like you. The throwing stars were no doubt a point of consternation, but otherwise, you seem truly worthwhile.
My daughter is special needs, sorta. She is in speech therapy and has her own little IEP. Trust me NinjaChick, a well-adjusted, sane parent has no such issues. Not for nothing, but the supreme pain in the ass I was always told I was terrified me of becoming a mother. Ya know what? I’d die for my child and my most fervent wish for her is that when/as she grows up, she never, ever, for a second, is able to think the first sentence of your post, much less type it out and more horribly, believe it.
It seems to me that just as soon as you learn to parent an infant, it mutates into a toddler, which is a whole nother beast entirely. As soon as you’ve got the toddler thing down, suddenly it’s asking to borrow the car keys. Good grief!
I’m afraid of NOT having that mystical connection be forged as soon as I hold it for the first time. Not much you can do then, is there? I’ve never wanted a child. I’d much rather be the aunt than the mom. I have ideas of what a kid deserves and I am not equipped with adequate patience and energy to provide it. Being trapped in that inevitable shortcoming is my fear.
So much more attractive to me to provide a haven for mom-friends to visit when they need a break - and ditto for nieces and nephews.
Your parents are correct. Of course, your decision about kids is entirely up to you; but really, you just love the kid and cope with whatever comes up.
Actually, I don’t think there’s any such thing as a person without some sort of issue. Obviously Down’s syndrome is a permanent condition that drastically changes how one parents. But every kid is going to have something. My oldest has severe food allergies, the younger has Duane’s syndrome. A physically perfect kid might have dyslexia or have to deal with severe bullying or whatever. Then there’s things that happen later, like anorexia or depression…anyway, there’s no such thing as a kid without some sort of difficult issue to deal with. It only varies in degree and duration. That’s life for you. Unpredictable and difficult.
You’re not alone. I’m 27 and echoed similar sentiments to my mother. Her answer: “well, you’re not ready to have children yet!” Duh, how right! So, you’re not ready to have children yet.
The biological clock sucks, but it shouldn’t be a factor IMO. Every commitment I’ve made (e.g., home hunting, marriage, new jobs), in retrospect, it is better to not to plunge in at all than to plunge in half-heartedly. It was clear in one way or another that a half-hearted commitment always turned out to be a major mistake. Well, kids are the biggest commitment you can make, why should they be different?
I’m not going to have kids until I’m good and ready and want to have them. If my body gives up on me before that happens, well, there’s always adoption. Everyone I know who adopts says that they love their adopted kids just as much as biological; no reason to doubt them.
Yeah, I guess. Given that I’m nearly 40 and still in no position (financially, mostly) to reproduce, I’m a little resentful that the option will be taken away from me pretty soon. I am not sure either of us desires that much to be a parent that we would adopt; the main part that interests me is being pregnant and passing along my genetic material. The rest is just a bonus.
Scared to death. I had a horrible time growing up in a completely fucked up family, with a father who was likely severly mentally ill. A number of years of counseling has helped me learn how to overcome issues which would have not been good to still have as a parent.
I’m still working on things, but I feel better that I would not be the same sort of parent that my father was. Looking at my sister and how much of a better parent she is than my mother has also helped.
Plus I’ve got a great wife who doesn’t have the same issues. We work really well as partners and have discussed my background and what sort of problems that could potentially arise, and are working on it together.
Still, it [del]can be[/del] is scary, and something to not take lightly.
Really? Because that’s a very common element in the anecdotes recounted as evidence, when people hear that we don’t want kids: “oh I was just like you, I wasn’t sure I wanted kids at all, but when I held her for the first time everything changed/my doubts vanished/nothing else mattered/I learned the REAL meaning of love” etc. etc.
I got over it a few years back, but well, I doubt I’ll be finding a Guy in time to be having kids, now. And I’m not going the single mom route on purpose just because, I’ll just be Aunt Crazy to my Nephews, since one of my brothers is kindly providing them.
My grandparents made Mom’s life hell; she made mine. I wasn’t so scared of having a son, as my mother wasn’t as bad to my brothers as to me (mind you, she still drowns Middlebro as bad as she drowns me, if we let her), but… a daughter? What, to drive her nuts with duties and never approve of her (repeating the behaviour of the previous generations)? And what if she was a Pink Princess? I wouldn’t even know how to talk to her beyond “are your shoes on?”!
Like I said, a couple of years ago I finally realized that even if I look a lot like Mom, we’re so different mentally that the way in which I would drive my kids crazy isn’t the way in which she drives us crazy… but yeah, it terrified me for what’s still most of my life.
I’m sure that there are some people who do get that instant rush, and I’m just as sure that some people exaggerate it to themselves and/or to others, either at the time, or in retrospect. There’s powerful pressure to get that ‘zing’ moment, I think, and it can’t possibly help poor women sufferening post natal depression, in particular. It’s just extra guilt, ISTM.
I’ll happily say I DIDN’T feel that. I was pretty scared before I got pregnant, had a low-level but occasionally peaking anxiety most of the way through, and a pretty awful birth experience. I felt a very strong urge to protect my daughter, to look after her, but it felt biological, it wasn’t an emotional thing at the level of love. I fell in love with her but it took time, and we both seemed happy enough to let it happen gradually! However, I do think it’s true (and seems a popular topic on the boards at the moment) that the love I have for her is unique in my experience, and is powerful and pure and overwhelming. I feel connected to my biological and evolutionary heritage in a very primal way - if that’s not starting to sound a bit newage-wanky.
As for the OP, I’d echo those who say terror is an entirely sane response. If you’re not scared about some aspects of parenting, you just haven’t thought it through properly! DianaG seems to sum it up best, so I’ll repeat her lines, if you don’t mind: “there’s a huge difference between “I’m scared to have kids” and “I don’t want kids”. You’ll figure out which of those applies to you when the time comes.”
You have heard the stories about mothers leaving their newborns in trash cans, yes?
I may be balking at the term ‘mystical’, but it’s like describing an orgasm: Most people will say it’s the best feeling there is. But if you’re a premature ejaculator or the lover of one you may have a different perspective.
Personally, I had a hard time dealing with the fact that I did love my son immediately!
I’m trying to leave the personal baggage at the door, but watching my son grow up was a terrible reminder of what it was like to be a little boy. There are things I would never have remembered if it weren’t for being around a very small child.
I was left with the feeling that the ‘mystical’ connection was all there was between me and my parents and that if I had been born in a different time they would have sold me to gypsies.
I agree that the OP is thinking along the right lines. Being a parent is a huge responsibility.
But if anyone expects that there is some magical or even evolutionary reason that they will become a good parent just by holding their own offspring, they are wrong.
