In Defense of Having Babies

We found out we were expecting Rowan two weeks after our honeymoon (!!!!). We joked that we hadn't even seen our wedding pictures yet and we were already on to the next! When we talked about babies before we were married we just said we would be "open" and it would happen when the time was right and BAM! I guess the time was right.

My newlywed phase with my new husband was glowingly spent throwing up for about five months- almost every single thing I ate. I could not keep food down. I was afraid to go out in public because I needed to know where a bathroom was AT ALL TIMES. I was literally in the middle of signing my new hire paperwork to teach Montessori French, with my bosses all around me, when I had to excuse myself to vomit. (I know, TMI. Welcome to pregnancy talk.) I shamefully quit the job six weeks later because I couldn't function. I spent all of my days in bed just trying to feed myself. Since we had gotten married I had barely made a meal or done a load of laundry. I felt so guilty and like such a failure during those first few months of marriage. My plans to be the perfect new wife were crushed. I despaired and questioned our "openness" to this new life during that time. Were we insane to get pregnant so soon?

But I was learning a valuable lesson.

My pregnancy with Rowan taught me something that I feel is a struggle for many women to accept. It taught me that my worth is not measured by my career. It is not measured by my ability to keep my house clean, by how many loads of laundry I do in a day or if I am cooking healthy meals. It is not measured by how much I work out or how often I read empowering books. Pregnancy taught me that the love in my marriage does not depend on my perfection. I saw my marriage through a new lens- through a husband who loved me at my darkest, sitting on the bathroom floor to comfort me while I cried, and holding my hair while I threw up again. He reassured me that the best thing I could do with my life at that time was take care of myself to grow that baby. He showed me God's love- you don't have to earn it, you just have to exist. And your simple existence makes you worthy.

And then Rowan came. In society today we love to tell these horror stories, like the paragraphs above. We love to complain about the trauma of pregnancy, about babies who don't sleep through the night and a new parent's loss of freedom. It's widely accepted and mainstream to be a disgruntled parent.

But what I want to tell you is that from the moment you see your baby's face, you will never be the same. (Seriously, it's the most beautiful face you will ever see.) When Rowan was a newborn, my mom would take him out of the room so that I could catch up on sleep and I would sob because I didn't feel whole without him. When you become a parent you will want your baby to sleep so bad and then you will miss them every time they are asleep. Their first smile will set your heart ablaze. Their sleeping bodies will soothe your soul. Their tears will physically pain you. Because that baby is made of you and the person you love most in the world. You will be broken and made new in the most amazing way. It will be a birth for you too.

So guess what? After that whole experience we decided to do it again. We found out we were pregnant with Rowan's little brother in June while Ian was finishing up airborne school. Let me tell you, we did not have everything figured out. We did not have a plan for Ian's career when he got back home from training. We did not have a place to live, since I was staying with my parents during the months that Ian was training with the army.

I was so sick again that we have been with my parents ever since. This time it wasn't the debilitating nausea- it was chronic migraines that kept me bedridden and on a cycle of medications that I hated myself for taking. This time I had a toddler I was unable to care for. This time Ian was trying to juggle studying for the GRE to go back to school and working part-time and caring for Rowan. This time we were in my parents' basement and wondering what the heck we were doing.

And again, in the dark moments, I questioned our openness to this new baby. (My neurologist did too...)

And again, it broke me. And again, it's making me new. Because the hard times of childbearing come and go, whether you have difficult pregnancies, pregnancy complications, traumatic labors, struggles with breastfeeding or postpartum depression- but when they are over you are left with a LIFE.

And isn't that the most important thing?

There are so many people who struggle with infertility and parents who lose their sweet babies to miscarriage. Loss is all around us and affects everyone at some point. What makes our lives worth living is to appreciate LIFE in the moments that we are lucky enough to receive it.

My grandpa always says, no one regrets the children they had, but many regret the children they didn't have.

Remember that when you begin to question your "openness", mamas. Time is fleeting, but a little soul is forever.

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