Transitioning To Motherhood: Harder Than It Looks

I’m on the brink, but not quite there yet…

As I quickly approach 30, I’m looking around and getting a little anxious that I’m missing something.  I’ve got no plans of babies any time soon. Am I incorrect? Am I missing the motherly gene?

Friends, this is a vulnerable, openhearted discussion.  The subject has been heavy on my mind lately. So I am going to throw it all out there, and outline my thoughts for you.

I am on the verge of motherhood, but I just can’t seem to take the leap.

Before I dive into this, I want to make it clear for anyone reading that my comments are not meant to be rude or ignorant. I’m writing from an honest position. These are my sincere, real-life concerns.

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Any other not-yet-moms out there, I’m writing for you. The P2M’s larger audience?  If you’re a current, real-life-mom, this is simply offered as a unique perspective from those of us who are looking at you from the outside.

1). Life is Good (now).   

I’m stuck in my ways, and I’m okay with it. Life is really good for me right now.  Children bring with them a whole host of responsibilities for which I’m not quite ready to add.

[amazon_textlink asin=’B07DNLVCQ5′ text=’I love my routine‘ template=’ProductLink’ store=’poms2moms-20′ marketplace=’US’ link_id=’72227c57-a015-11e8-9f60-0d2ce5515e6a’], and the days I feel most satisfied are those when I’ve been ultra productive. My goal usually is threefold: something for my health, my academics, and my faith. When I accomplish something towards all three categories, I go to bed happy as a clam.

My concern about babies is the shock wave they will send to my routine.

Example:  [amazon_textlink asin=’B01NCSTCBK’ text=’If I love going to Crossfit‘ template=’ProductLink’ store=’poms2moms-20′ marketplace=’US’ link_id=’6eb17c3e-a016-11e8-8447-51abd951dabd’] from 0530-0630 in the morning and my husband is at the fire department, can I leave my baby at home alone to go to the gym?  But like, no, really. It’s the only time of day that works with my schedule, and there’s no childcare options that early. Am I not supposed to go to the gym? 

Honestly, I understand how that example may sound silly, but this is one demonstration of my thought process when considering beginning a family. I love my current routine. It suits me so well, and frankly I’m thriving off of my way of life. Why change it?

Acknowledging that I’m selfish, and rather set in my ways, I can’t bring myself to get excited about starting a family.

2). Great expectations.  

I was watching a cute YouTube video on a rescue dog one day.  The new owner described her dog: “She’s a great mother. All she cared about were her puppies.”  

PAUSE.

Is she a great mother because all she cared about was her puppies?  In other words, if you want to be a good mother, are kids your only priority?  Is the definition of a great mother one who doesn’t care about anything except her babies?  

I’m honestly asking.

Society has a funny way of placing expectations on you, even before you get pregnant, about motherhood. Attitudes, outfits, and lifestyles.  And respectfully, I’m not sure that other moms make it easy for each other either.

In the days of constant advertisements, TV, and social media, pictures of a perfect Sunday afternoon where kids look like angels sometimes do more harm than good.

It’s as though you are only a “good mom” if your house is clean, your kids are in matching clothes, and your hair is perfect.  It seems mandatory. We know that’s not always the case, but I can’t live like that.

Tell me how I’m supposed to be a “great mom” if I already barely squeak by.

An average of two of my meals every day are reheated in a microwave, my dog’s flea and tick regimen is sporadic at best, and (please) don’t ask my mom when I last called her

Adding a totally-dependent human to the mix, with such great expectations already laid out for me, causes additional hesitation to start a family.

3). I’m Not Motherly.

My sister is the kindest, most thoughtful human on the planet.  Caring for others comes so naturally to her. Cayla Embry, another P2M, is also one of these kind souls.

Me?  Nope. I’m kind but not considerate. I’m polite but put my priorities are first.  I have a different set of traits. I’m not a caretaker, at least in the normal sense of the word.  

The world seems to dictate that [amazon_textlink asin=’B00K7GO2V0′ text=’“good” moms are the loving, doting caretakers‘ template=’ProductLink’ store=’poms2moms-20′ marketplace=’US’ link_id=’90ebd7ac-a016-11e8-a563-bffa977ce50d’].  While reality may say otherwise, society still makes it seem black-or-white that those characteristics are mandatory. I fall on the wrong side of those paradigms.

This became clear to me during a personal, extremely emotional situation that caused my family a lot of concern.  While I’ll keep the details private, suffice it to say that the natural reaction would have been to melt into a pile of emotions.  However, the business, mission-oriented side of me took over.

I was practically crass to the despair of the situation and saw it as a problem I could fix.  Certainly not the response onlookers would expect from my gender.  This is the personality trait that makes me nervous about fitting in with motherly moms.

It seems like the moms that are so admired are the sympathetic, soft-hearted ones.[amazon_textlink asin=’B00HSV1FMG’ text=’Society doesn’t like the working, stern mom‘ template=’ProductLink’ store=’poms2moms-20′ marketplace=’US’ link_id=’eb8354d7-a015-11e8-95be-d94b83693701′]. I’m concerned that I’ll fail to meet the typecast that our community praises.

Of course I’ll love my kids, but my type of affection doesn’t necessarily comport with that of the acceptable, tender, doting mother.

This is the point that folks usually tell me, “It’ll be different when they are yours.”  I have a hard time believing that because I can’t imagine a world in which a baby = *poof* I’m a gentle, bleeding heart. I only wish it were that simple.

TO BRING THIS THING to a conclusion, here’s another genuine reason why I’m delaying motherhood:

I am terrified.

I don’t want to bring a baby into existence and watch them struggle with real-world problems.  I have my own internal monsters that rear up at inconvenient life moments. What’s to stop them from growing into a maniac, just like me? Surely my kids are also doomed.

Thanks for your patience and giving me an honest listen. Don’t hesitate to tell me how you really feel in the comments. Until next time, take care friends.