Would it surprise you to know that, growing up, I never gave much thought to being a mother? I wasn’t a girl who obsessed with dolls or ooo’d and aaah’d over babies. I mean, I though babies were cute and all, but after a babysitting experience in my late teens where the child was inconsolable and had projectile spit up/ vomit (I don’t remember which it was), I think I was a little put off.
Then I became religious, and babies were EVERYWHERE.
So I went from not considering babies at all to assuming that I would have a substantial amount of them. It was a bit of a drastic shift, and one I didn’t consider the ramifications of. I liked the idea of having a lot of children, but I didn’t really think about the practical side of what that meant on a day-to-day basis.
After I had my first baby, it seemed to me that I was somehow different from some of the other mothers I knew. It wasn’t just that I was older than most of them. No, it was a difference in approach, in the amount of worrying done, the amount of research into each coo and gurgle. I just didn’t seem very, well, maternal.
Gigi at Kludgy Mom has a wonderful series called “Around the Bonfire,” where different women share what they might talk about, you guessed it, around the bonfire. All the posts that I’ve read in this series have been poignant, relatable, and moving. It’s women sharing with other women things that we think about, worry about, remember, but often don’t take the time to share. But it’s exactly these things which need to be shared to remind and reassure ourselves (and others) that we’re all normal in our insecurities and struggles, and we can all rise above them to meet our potential.