Poor Parenting

Since the only child I have currently lives in my belly... I'm obviously no expert at parenting. But I've been thinking a lot about this topic lately. 

I came across this quote recently and it sums up all of my thoughts perfectly. 

Thinking back to my childhood... we didn't have a lot. I'm the youngest of 13 children. My dad was a farmer for the first half of his life and an agricultural research scientist for the second half. He has a PhD and is extremely educated and intelligent. But believe me when I say, plant doctors are definitely NOT paid like people doctors. Most of my life, he had to work two jobs to support our family, while my mom stayed home to take care of us. My closest sibling is my older sister, so I was raised on her hand-me downs.

Looking back, I'll admit, I felt a little deprived sometimes. I never got a Power Wheel to drive, or an American Girl Doll to play with. I didn't get light-up shoes, or a "cool" cartoon character backpack. I never had the trendy toys, like Polly Pockets, or a Nintendo GameBoy. I never got Pizza Lunchables (unless it was my birthday). And yes, there were times I resented all of this. I was jealous of my friends and the cool stuff they had. They seemed so lucky.

Oh, how 20 years can change your perspective on life. 

I may not have had all those materialistic things... but what I gained was so much more. Without "stuff" to fill my life, I resorted to my imagination. I had a backyard adventure-land: mud and leaves for making secret potion, sticks and a tarp for a TeePee, a two-wheeled bike with dark brown fur and a black mane that I named Lightning, a small wooded plot of trees for exploring, endless amounts of computer paper and cardboard boxes for art projects and coloring, blankets and couches for forts and club meetings... and best of all, I had a mother who was always there. She was always there to make me peanut butter marshmallow sandwiches, take me to the pool, bring me my homework when I forgot it, pick me up from school if my belly hurt. She comforted us. She taught us. She raised us.

At the time, I didn't realize how lucky I was, and how much that meant to me. But now I know that it was priceless. She drove us around in an old, rusty station wagon. We wore out-dated or homemade clothes. We didn't have the best, new things... but we had her. We had each other. And with that, we had everything. 

I was recently offered a full-time job, with a title I wouldn't expect to have without 10-15 years of experience. The salary was double what I used to make. For a few days, I was in shock. I never dreamed of making that much money so quickly out of college.

I started to picture our new life. We could build our dream house - 4 bedrooms, gray, stone, 3-car garage. We could buy our first "new" car. I could design a Pinterest-perfect nursery with amazing natural light, beautiful white woodwork and have the best-dressed baby, ever. We could have everything we ever wanted. I could give my child all the things I never had!

If I accepted this full-time position, I would have to work about 50-60 hours a week and frequently travel around the country and to Europe...

That's when it hit me.

I started rubbing my belly, thinking of the tiny mango-sized baby swimming around in there.

I would miss the diaper changes, the feedings, the baths. Our baby's first smile. First giggle. First steps. First words. I would be paying someone else to enjoy these moments. I would be paying someone else to teach, to comfort, to raise, to love... my baby.

About 2 seconds into my train of thought, I had a complete breakdown. I started sobbing uncontrollably.

At that moment, I knew what my answer would be.

And I also knew something else.

A child doesn't need a nice, big house. Or a coordinated, luxury nursery. Or a limited-edition Suburban. Or this season's outfits from babyGAP.

A child needs its mother.

I understand that sometimes situations aren't ideal and the mother must work full-time. And I'm also not saying that having nice things and money are bad.

I guess what I'm saying is that it's okay to choose to be poor. It's okay to live in a two-bedroom townhouse with a half-office / half-nursery put together with second-hand things found on Craigslist. It's okay to have an 18-year-old car and buy all your baby's clothes at a thrift store.

What I'm saying is that I'm completely at peace with my decision, because it's what is right for us. In 5, 10, 15 years, I could see myself regretting the house, the car, the job. I could see myself feeling resentful for all the moments I missed. But one thing I know is I'll never regret raising my child. I'll never regret the time we spend together and the memories we'll make.

I'm so happy.

I'm so grateful for what we have and I'm so grateful for the chance I have to turn down this job so I can begin an even better one... raising our little baby.

I hope I can be the kind of mother that mine was to me. I hope I can give our child "everything."