Sunday, June 8, 2014

Loving, Supportive Parents Make Me Not Want to Have Kids

When I was growing up, my parents provided everything I needed and then some. 

I was encouraged to try a variety of activities from softball to acting to cheerleading. I had tutors for math. I was applauded for good efforts and scolded for laziness. I learned faith through going to church as a family every Sunday (I’m no longer Christian but I still appreciate the act of imparting faith). I am one of three kids and my parents made a point to keep things fair among the three of us, so I always felt equally - but individually - loved.

I grew up believing I could do anything, and I thank my parents for that belief.

Certainly there were and are some things that one parent does more or better than the other. For example, my mom was the one I remember being by my side in the hospital and calming me through my terrible asthma attacks while my dad is the one I remember obsessing over his kids’ college searches and researching every reach to safety school we might want. Between Mom and Dad, my needs were more than met and I was and am completely loved.

I guess I’m an adult now. I continue to find myself calling home, and sometimes I’ll talk to whoever answers, and other times I specifically need to talk to Mom or Dad (like the day my marriage died).

After having had such great parents, you might think I would be desperate to have kids of my own. Well, I'm not.

I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a sad thing, but the desire I once had for children with Max has been all but extinguished. 

I don’t desire motherhood; I desire a two-parent partnership for both me and my children.

I hope I get to have one of these someday.
This one seems to like me.
My point was proven last week when I spent five days surrounded by children and two sets of devoted parents. 

I was visiting Ali, one of my best friends in the universe. She just had her second child, so I was in town to help. I had the up close, personal, and sometimes disgusting look at parenthood as I cuddled her six-week-old infant. Ali and her husband were doing the parenthood thing seamlessly in little moments like when Ali nursed the baby while her husband cooked eggs for their toddler son. Sure, there was a little bickering here and there between these tired parents, but they were working together to keep their children healthy and happy. I marveled at how blessed their children were.

Also during my visit, I saw my brother and his wife for my nephew’s second birthday party. It’s been incredible to see my siblings become parents and find out which of our parents’ habits they have incorporated (or dropped). Anyway, I loved watching how my nephew fluidly ran between his parents, which is no surprise because my brother and his wife really take a team approach to parenting.

Loving, supportive parents have made me
not want to have children (yet).

I had pangs during my visit when I felt achingly sad to be childless. Part of me so wants to be a mom. I’d be an awesome mom, I’m sure of it! But when I lost Max, everything changed. I’d want to bring my child into this world into two pairs of loving arms. My parents had each other to lean on through raising three kids.  I want to share parenthood, from the literally shitty moments to the precious ones. I just can’t fully desire motherhood without a man who would be a wonderful father.

Sadly, Max would have been that wonderful father, but as we learned in an awkward lesson with the school nurse in fifth grade, you need sex to make babies. And that leaves me 34-year-old, divorced, and childless. 

In the meantime, I'll cherish being an awesome aunt and friend to the many precious children in my life.

If you’re single and childless, do you want children? How does having someone to have children with factor into your desire for children? If you’re a single parent, did your approach to parenting change after your split? Or, did anyone actively choose to be a single parent?

See also: I'm Not A  Mom. Do I Cry or Cheer?

P.S. My search for my perfect home continues. I'll find it one of these days!

Epic Mommy Adventures