{"id":139,"date":"2019-03-13T21:43:52","date_gmt":"2019-03-14T01:43:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/goodstateofmind.com\/blog\/?p=139"},"modified":"2024-02-21T15:31:56","modified_gmt":"2024-02-21T20:31:56","slug":"the-one-thing-parents-are-never-supposed-to-say","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/goodstateofmind.com\/blog\/2019\/03\/13\/the-one-thing-parents-are-never-supposed-to-say\/","title":{"rendered":"The One Thing Parents Are Never Supposed To Say"},"content":{"rendered":"

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All of us parents have those little remembrances of how our children came into our world. We remember having a wet baby placed into our arms or maybe we remember opening an envelope and seeing a cherubic little face that we would soon meet after a long flight to a strange, new country. Either way, certain parts of a child\u2019s introduction into a parent\u2019s life remain locked away forever.<\/p>\n

We remember trying to figure out \u201cIs this the front or the back?\u201d during the first diaper change. When we arrive home with the new baby and lay her down in the house for the first time, we remember the look on our spouse\u2019s face that begged the question,\u201cNow what?\u201d<\/p>\n

I had only been a mother for about 48 hours when a paralyzing wave of reality swept over me. My daughter was content, sleeping catatonically in my lap like only a newborn can, and my mom, who was visiting, was just over my shoulder. My daughter was peaceful. She was adorable. She looked like she was sleeping in complete contentment, so fragile and delicate.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t stand the thought of her experiencing pain or fear. It kills me,\u201d I said. \u201cThings are going to hurt her, people are going to be mean to her. I look at her, and I realize I will never be free of worry about her. Ever. My mind will never be unburdened again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s so overwhelming. All of it.\u201d
\nI started to cry, and since I\u2019m not a crier by nature this only upset me more. \u201cIt almost makes me wish\u2026I mean, I kinda wish\u2026\u201d I stumbled over my words until my mom took them from me.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou almost wish you\u2019d never had her?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

There they were. The words you\u2019re never supposed to say.<\/p>\n

My mom had ripped them right out of my mouth. I looked at her searching for a sign of disapproval that I had made such a heartless confession, but found none. Instead she just dismissed my words with a wave of her hand, \u201cevery new mother feels like that,\u201d and walked away.<\/p>\n

What! Every new mother feels like this? No one had mentioned one word about this parenting scam. The \u201cno going back now\u201d panicky feeling that the hospital handed you\u2013 along with that new diaper bag and first inky footprint\u2013 was just a big well-kept secret I guess.\"\"<\/p>\n

I felt wronged. Tricked. Why had no one, none of my friends who had babies before me, or my own mother, told me of this crooked deal I\u2019d delivered along with this perfect baby? Where did I need to expose this huge ugly secret so that every perspective new parent could rethink this whole decision?<\/p>\n

Before I go any further, let me clarify the full statement here so I don\u2019t come off sounding ungrateful for my three children. I\u2019m incredibly grateful and feel blessed beyond belief to have my kids.<\/p>\n

My feelings of \u201cI almost wish I hadn\u2019t had her\u201d were only because I loved her so much it scared me.<\/em><\/p>\n

I had the terrifying realization that my happiness was now vulnerable to being pierced by anything or any person that would ever cause her grief or pain. In an instant, my happiness was forever inseparable from hers\u2013this person who weighed six pounds and who I had only known for two days\u2013and that wasn\u2019t an emotion I was prepared for.<\/p>\n

\"\"And the catch? By the time you figure this out, it\u2019s too late. You\u2019ve been given this baby and instantly you\u2019re condemned to a life sentence of constant worry. \u00a0Your utterly confusing and baffling parenting journey of questions and second guessing yourself immediately begins, and you are constantly introduced to new things to obsess about at every turn:<\/p>\n

Is she sleeping enough?
\nIs she sleeping too much? If you have that baby, just to be clear\u2013 all mothers hate you.
\nWhat if they drop her on her head at daycare?
\nWill she make friends at school?<\/p>\n

Will she survive her transition to Middle School?
\nWill I<\/i> survive her transition to Middle School?
\nDoes she need braces?<\/p>\n

Will she make cheerleader? What if she doesn\u2019t?
\nWhat if no one asks her to prom?
\nIs that her boyfriend?<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Those are all pretty typical questions parents ask.
\nBut hold on, because you will also ask questions such as:<\/p>\n

Who did this? Spoiler alert, this question is always answered with \u201cDid what?\u201d
\nWhy is the dog sticky?
\nWhere is your father?
\nWhy is there a boiled egg in your backpack?
\nWhy in the world would you type f- -k on the Media Center computer?<\/p>\n

So do you understand now why you can\u2019t just wipe your runny nose on someone\u2019s baby?
\nWhere is your father?
\nWell when was the last time you saw your hamster?
\nWhy do you have a shoe box full of water?
\nSo do we agree, no more talk with your bus driver about Mommy drinking martinis?<\/p>\n

Where are your pants? This one seems funny, but it\u2019s not really funny if they\u2019re in high school.
\nWhy would you tell your Brownie Troop that Mommy and Daddy sleep naked?
\nWho shut the cat in the shower?
\nWhy are you limping?
\nWhere did you get that?\u2026 Just make a rule, nothing dead or alive comes in the house.
\nCan you please tell Mommy why you have a jar of olives under your bed?<\/p>\n

You need a poster board?\u2026always after 10pm and you will always be in your pajamas.
\nOh My God<\/i>, where is your father?
\nHow can you possibly need another poster board? See above.
\nWhy is this wet?
\nWhat in the hell\u2026?
\nIs it still breathing?\u2026 I know this one sounds odd, but you\u2019d be surprised.<\/p>\n

\"\"So while you spend a lot of time worrying about them, their safety and their welfare, you also end up feeling you could at times be the very thing they need protection from<\/i>. I am certain that parents who have been summoned to a police station, a hospital, a Principal\u2019s office, a concert venue or anywhere else to pick up a child who made a bad decision know what I\u2019m talking about. They have felt that rage.<\/p>\n

And even though we don\u2019t mean it, that \u201cI almost wish I\u2019d never had them,\u201d thought shamefully comes creeping back in from that dark, manic corner of your mind, just for a split second. Probably the same place where that urge to just yell out really loudly in church to see what would happen also sits, but we won\u2019t talk about that.<\/p>\n

\"\"
\nCertainly they will do little things that annoy you, for instance you will now have to hunt for items that you usually take for granted everyday: your hair brush, your car keys, your self-control not to choke someone.<\/p>\n

Along with those, there are three things that you will \u00a0never ever see again in your home: Scissors, Sharpie markers and Tape.<\/p>\n

The fact that one of these items renders permanent ink on anything it touches will certainly be no source of comfort. You can hide it from them like a loaded pistol, but they\u2019ll find it faster than a drug dog. Sometimes the \u201cSharpie marker at large,\u201d like a phantom, will even leave evidence that it still exists somewhere in your home (the loop-edy-loo\u2019s on the new coffee table incident of 1993) but you\u2019ll never actually see the marker itself again. Just resign yourself to the fact that you can own these three items again in about 20 years.\"\"<\/p>\n

It\u2019s such a miracle that these little people who are so demanding can possibly evoke such emotion and undeniable devotion from us, but Mother Nature knew what she was doing there. And quite frankly if someone did try to tell us this before we had a child, as I wished they had done for me, we wouldn\u2019t understand it or worse, we\u2019d all just stop having kids.<\/p>\n

When my husband and I were contemplating having a third child someone said to me \u201cIf you want another baby, just have another baby. You\u2019ll never regret having one, but you might possibly regret not having one years down the road.\u201d Ironically, it was best advice I ever received, and now I can\u2019t imagine our family without her spunky third dimension.\"\"<\/p>\n

This mental and emotional yoke our children have around our necks is such a mix of the greatest joy and at times the worst heartache imaginable, and they are separated by the smallest most delicate spider\u2019s thread. Just ask any parent who has ever buried a child. It\u2019s such a horrendous experience that there\u2019s not even a word for it in the English language. A man who has lost his wife is a widower, a woman a widow, but there is no word for a parent who has lost a child, simply because no one term could ever describe the indescribable.<\/p>\n

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\nTo acknowledge the moment that you recognized and accepted that joyous burden and fear of being a parent, of which there is no going back, is much more a testimony and commitment to our astounding love for our children, than any ingratitude<\/p>\n

You suddenly realize their safety, success and well-being are the currency for any future peace of mind you will ever hope to experience. So here\u2019s the thing, even though you\u2019re not really supposed to say, \u201cI almost wish I\u2019d never had them,\u201d you\u2019re not the only one to ever feel it, because for all the incredible, rewarding, joyous moments it provides, parenting is hard. It\u2019s exhausting. \u00a0Sometimes it hurts like hell, and it just about scares you to death, but only if you\u2019re doing it right.<\/p>\n

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All of us parents have those little remembrances of how our children came into our world. We remember having a wet baby placed into our arms or maybe we remember opening an envelope and seeing a cherubic little face that we would soon meet after a long flight to a strange, new country. Either way, … <\/p>\n

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