Yesterday my husband, daughter, and I headed out early for a morning on the beach. We dug a giant sand pit, built and promptly stomped on sandcastles, and failed to convince my daughter stepping on seaweed is not the absolute worst thing in the world. We followed this with fish stew and fried bananas on the beach. In the afternoon, there was a skype call with grandparents, tutus, and puzzles, and a thirty minute tantrum during which my little ballerina spit in my face.
When I finally crept out of her bedroom at night, I collapsed on the couch thinking “I will never do this again.”
There it is. My true feelings about parenthood. I love my daughter. I also love myself. And I cannot spend any more of my one lifetime parenting a small child.
Despite being born with a uterus, I never dreamed of having children. In high school through my early twenties, when I imagined my future it never included children. I pictured travel, politics, law, publishing a book and going on tour, or accepting an appointment as a US ambassador. Babies never made an appearance. Then I got married and in my late twenties, I began to think that a child might be nice. Also, my husband is sixteen years older than I am and given women’s tendency to outlive men, I’d rather not be alone for the last twenty years of my life.
Wanting a guaranteed companion in old age is a pretty selfish reason to have a child. But aren’t they all? I’ve never heard of a couple having a child because the kid asked to be born. “I’ve always dreamed of a big family.” “We need someone to carry on the family name.” “I just love babies.” All selfish reasons. Yet society reacts with hostility to a person who decides, “Yeah, I had a kid and I really don’t like parenting a baby. I won’t be doing it again.”
Of course, I’m not just a person deciding I don’t want more children. I’m a woman declaring I’d rather spend my Sunday afternoons reading as opposed to stringing macaroni necklaces. I searched for other posts about women with one child by choice, and every mom wrote about her family feeling “complete” with just one. One child just “feels right.” Not one mother said, “It was hard. I struggled. And I’m not doing it again.” Well, I’ll say it. The last three years have been a struggle and I’m not going through it again.
My daughter was born seven weeks early by emergency c-section after a placental abruption. She spent 28 days in the NICU. Her stay would have been shorter but she developed a food allergy at 2 weeks-old which caused loose, bloody stools at every feeding and meant I, the breastfeeding mother, had to begin eliminating things from my diet to isolate the cause. I eventually removed all dairy, soy, peanuts, nuts, eggs, tomatoes, and berries from my diet but traces of blood and a poopy diaper every two hours continued for 7 months. I clearly remember sitting at a Mexican restaurant, surrounded by my entire extended family and their plates of cheesy, processed deliciousness, while I ate my skinless chicken breast between two crumbling slices of homecooked, dairy-egg-soy-free bread. On the plus side, I dropped to under my pre-pregnancy weight in three months.
Since her homecoming my daughter has rejected the idea of sleeping in her own bed. Not just her bed. In her early months, she rejected swings, vibrating chairs, strollers, moving strollers, car seats, swaddling, and every means of soothing except a parent’s arms. And when I say “reject”, I mean she would scream until she couldn’t breathe, and it would take fifteen minutes of rocking to calm her back down. At 3 and a half, she still doesn’t sleep the whole night in her own bed. At least now, she will wake up and walk to our room and not just scream waiting for us to come.
Her separation anxiety is so extreme, I have spent exactly one night away from her since she came home from the hospital. It happened this January, while we were visiting my parents. We prepped my daughter for days. Mommy and Daddy were going away for a couple of days but she would be with Gramma and Grandpa. There were chicken nuggets, new toys, and Legoland. My husband and I kissed her goodbye at 6pm. She cried from 2:30 to 7:30am and was back with us after 20 hours. It’s been two months and still every story she plays out, with stuffed animals, Legos, or Littlest Pets, involves a lost parent.
I haven’t even mentioned her tantrums. And I won’t except that my dad witnessed one and described it to my brother this way: “Whatever you’re imagining, however awful…it was worse.”
I’m not writing all this to convince anyone of how hard I’ve had it. My daughter is happy, healthy, and growing. Despite being a preemie, she is now on the median line for height and weight. Her teachers send home glowing reports about what an active participant she is and what strides she has made recently with sharing. When I ask her teachers about the tantrums, they acknowledge her fits are extreme but not abnormally so, and they are occurring less and less often. It’s clear she will outgrow them.
My point in listing my greatest parenting challenges (so far) is to say that as tough as these years have been, they could have been worse. Much worse! A second child could have health complications or developmental challenges that make my daughter’s early life a three year vacation. My marriage can’t take that. My sanity can’t take that. I can’t take the risk! In the choice between a sane mother and siblings, I think we can universally agree a sane mother is more important for a child’s development.
In the most private recesses of my mind, I think that I am simply too selfish for a parent. While pregnant, I thought that hormones would flip some martyr switch that biology had surely hard wired in me. It didn’t happen. My dreams, interests, and personality remained mostly unchanged. I would throw myself in front of a bus for my daughter, but I still find coloring and crafting tedious. I’m making play-dough spaghetti and wishing I could get back to my book.
I do see a light at the end of tunnel. I see a turning point, a threshold, an event horizon approaching. We recently took her out Stand-Up Paddling for the first time. Fun was had by all. She’s asking to revisit the sea turtle center, making up stories, and composing songs off of the top of her head. I’m seeing flashes of a person, one I can’t wait to know and think I’ll have a few things in common with.
I definitely will not be repeating the past, but I am genuinely excited about the future.
I think one child is great. I don’t understand this unbearable need for women to give their child a sibling. It’s nice, but not a must. I’ve also witnessed parents wanting that second child so much, but then not giving that new sibling their “all” as they did with the first, I generally wonder why and find it unfair to the second (and potentially middle child).
p.s. I wouldn’t call it “childless” but rather “childfree” (if by choice), John.
I have one child and could NEVER do it again. She was colicky, never slept, and was a fussy eater. Those first few years were unbelievably difficult for me and I never felt like anyone could relate.
I’m so grateful that we made it through those rough years and now my daughter is 11 and is really quite fantastic. I’m lucky that she turned out the way she did despite our rough start.
Appreciate the honesty Brynn!
Ameena, it’s comments like yours that keep me going! After a rough start, your daughter is now a fantastic 11 year old. They do grow up! It does get better! I knew it! I have noticed a huge change just in the last month. It’s like she turned 5 and flip got switched. She’s still anxious and coping with extreme separation anxiety but the fits have dropped off dramatically. Yay!
I just came to your article through A Cup of Jo. I have a one year old daughter. You have described my feelings and my life.
My little girl cried for her first six months out of the womb. She has never slept in her crib. She will not sleep in the car or her pram or, frankly, anywhere except cuddled up to her Mama. Unlike you, though, I did grow up really wanting to be a mother, and my own sibling relationships are really important to me, so the idea of a second child is often on my mind. But could I cope with another year like the one I’ve just gone through? As you say, what if a future child had other health issues or developmental needs? I miss reading. I miss long quiet walks on my own. I love my daughter but I miss having the time to think my own thoughts, to cook, to take long dreamy train rides, to get coffee and people watch on my own. Thank you so much for articulating my dilemma – and most of all for not lying about how flipping hard life with a baby can be for some women! I’ll be sticking around 🙂
For a long time and even still today, I think I must be the most selfish mom in the world for not LOVING parenting. How many words have spent talking about the magic of motherhood. I thought there was something wrong with me for not thinking having my daughter was my greatest and most fulfilling achievement, for still wanting alone time, and time for my work and pursuing my dreams. She’s particularly clinging and so often I’m just desperate for five minutes without being touched by another person. Eventually, I realized that’s who I am and I can be a good mom without changing into a different person. But for me to be a good mom, the kind of parent I want to be, I’d have to stop at one child. And so far she’s never asked for a sibling. We do need to work on the sharing thing though.
I just found your blog through the cupofjo interview and I love this post!
I don’t have children yet but I often wonder if it’s the right path for me, and I admit that the option to have children is often accompanied by the idea of these magical hormones that will arrive and kickstart me into being a perfect mum. I’m glad to see someone saying that is not always the case!
Speaking candidly about these things is the only way forward I feel- for too long (and I’m talking about centuries of course), women have been fed this idea that our bodies and hormones crave and thrive in motherhood above all else!
It’s not rare for me to hear people around me talking about children as if they are a box to check off on the checklist of life, instead of a conscious choice. I wonder what society would be like if that wasn’t simply drilled into our heads (24/7/365) as an expectation!
Clearly I think about this a lot and could talk about it all day, but I really appreciate you writing this post 🙂
I think it’s so important for mom’s to be honest about their feelings towards parenting. Raising a child is incredibly hard work and like any other type of work isn’t right for everyone. I don’t have the skills or temperament to be a first grade teacher or professional beat boxer. Not for me. I wanted a family, but now that I am a parent, I know I’m not the right person to have multiple children.
We also need to stop assuming motherhood is the dream for any person who happens to be female. It is fulfilling for so many women, but we’re not all the same. And that’s totally ok.
[…] Every parenting decision we make involves a risk-benefit analysis. There is no golden standard, no rule book that guarantees our kids will be happy, healthy and successful. And sometimes the risk benefit analysis needs to include the simple “this would drive me insane”, be it beeping toys, co-sleeping or not having more than one child.. […]
[…] breastfeeding feeding schedule was every two hours, so I didn’t sleep for almost a year. She has severe separation anxiety which has allowed me one night off in over four years, and that night was such a disaster it will […]
It’s ok not to want any more, you know. The perfect family for you will be the family that you end up with and if that’s just one child, that’s fine. x
I think that some parents are simply not comfortable in the baby/toddler stages. It is the case of my husband who has no patience with babies/small children, but will likely be great dealing with teenager angst later (he is a pastor and has no problem working with the youth groups). Also I think that one single child is much more work than 2 or 3 kids of about the same age. My kids play together without me most of the day 🙂
(I think too that there are many more selfish reasons NOT to have children, than there are for becoming a parent!)
I enjoyed the candid reflection on motherhood; your experiences with little Audrey would certainly test the most maternal of mums. I would even suggest that a lot of woman are not DNA coded to be mothers at all. Of course, for a woman to deny her biology and follow a childless family future is a tough call; those social pressures are difficult to contradict.
Amazing writing, Brynn. It keeps the reader at a fast speed.I liked it very much.