It seems like a lot of my friends are pregnant right now. This was brought to mind again while listening to a podcast yesterday morning. The speaker was talking about looking at his twentysomething son, remembering his childhood. It made me smile, thinking of my own two children. I love being their mom. While not every moment of parenthood is grand, there is a lot to enjoy and be thankful for.
Anyway, as I watch many of my friends experience these joys afresh, from the two pink lines on the pregnancy test to the sweet smell of a newborn baby, I sometimes feel a pang of what I call “baby nostalgia.” Baby nostalgia, in short, is remembering only the good things about having a newborn: the warm cuddles, the tender moments feeding baby, the excitement of seeing each new milestone.
And then I remember the realities. Sleepless nights. Diaper changes. Awkward breastfeeding moments. Fussy days. Teething. Illnesses. I wouldn’t trade even one moment of it with my two kids. But do I want to start it all over again? No way.
When I start to feel baby nostalgia creeping in, I like to remind myself of all the things I value in J and S now, today, at their present ages. I have gotten to know them as people and I’ve really enjoyed watching them grow up. Today, S washed her own hair–all by herself, and she did a terrific job, too. J can prepare a simple meal with minimal help. Both of them are developing into kind, caring, compassionate people.
Perhaps the milestones kids reach after early childhood are more infrequent and subtle, but they are no less significant. I am looking forward to watching these beautiful kids become the people God intends them to be. My prayer is that when the time comes for them to spread their wings and fly, that this mama bird will be ready to release them.
I see your baby nostalgia and raise you my out and out jealousy.
God has chosen to not give me the gift of pregnancy.
I’m bitter. And have a really, really, really hard time being truly happy for my preggo friends, because I am so jealous.
And then there are the people who murder their children. I seethe. Why does God give children to monsters and deny me? Am I really such a horrible person? Really?
No kidding! I have so many friends who desperately want children and can’t for whatever reason. It does seem so cruel and unfair that they should not be able to experience that joy, while others abuse and neglect the ones they have. And why is it that people who really don’t seem to like their children keep on having them? (That’s actually what prompted this post, but I was trying to be nice. A couple people I know seem to really dislike being parents but have baby after baby anyway.)
My jealousy, that I often cannot keep in check, has lead me to delete facebook friends (you included) because I can’t post cute videos of dance class or scan art projects or talk about the tooth fairy forgetting to put money under a pillow.
Even though I am blessed to have a step-daughter, and I did get a tiny taste of some of those childhood joys, being a parent for approximately 20 hours a month is not the same as being a parent full time. Frankly, I find part-time parenthood to be even more frustrating than not having a child at all, because I get a small taste, and then have to return her to her maternal unit. I know what I’m missing, and I don’t get to be involved the way I’d like to be because her maternal unit is insanely jealous of us, and thus afraid her daughter will prefer us to her.
Heh, I don’t take “unfriending” personally. And I do understand. I try not to make all my comments there kid-related, but at this point, they take up most of my time.
My sister’s significant other is in the same position with my nephew. He wants to be more like a dad to him, but her evil (and I don’t use that term lightly) ex is in the way of that.
I hate that anyone suffer those feelings of loss/longing/jealousy. It’s just not fair.
(funny how I’m willing to share these thoughts on your blog, when I don’t go near them on my own!)