Reply #116: Before I had my son, I was terrified of children

[Cats Against Frist]

Or, at least any to whom I'd have any personal obligation. I had babysat, in high school, but that was easy -- put them to bed, and have friends come over, or make out with some boy. ;)

My best friend in high school became pregnant at 15, and most of the girls with whom I graduated all had 1-3 kids, by the time I was 21. I was TERRIFIED that "something like that would happen to me." All I wanted to do was party, study, and travel and have promiscuous sex -- and I did a healthy amount of all of them.

When I was 22, my cousin's girlfriend became pregnant, and she had the baby, and I sat in my mom's kitchen, with a hangover, listening to her talk about it, and I swore to god that I'd never have a child -- that if I accidentally became pregnant, that I'd abort it, before the sun set on the day that I found out. I hated everything about domesticity -- marriage, kids, two cars, a house that stays in one place -- all of it.

Then, I went through a really bad period of mania, and emptiness and obsessive-compulsive disorder, and drug and alcohol abuse. I came out, on the other side of it, knocked up by a guy that I'd been dating for about four months. I was ASHAMED, when I found out that I was pregnant. There was another couple, who were in the crowd that we ran around with who were also pregnant. They had, like, a nursery, and a house, and a nice car, and invitations to stuff, and I felt terrible, because my boyfriend was a drunk, we lived in a flop house, we had one shitty car -- we were dirt poor.

I decided to keep the baby, however, and, on the State of Washington's pregnancy medical dime, delivered a healthy baby boy. The first two years were hard -- trying to transition from flop-house, to parenthood, to sober up, to leave that youth behind, to have like a functioning kitchen, regular meals, etc. The road was hard -- lots of fighting -- the neighbor/landlords called CPS because there were so many beer bottles outside the house (from boyfriend, not me) -- and we borrowed money, and bought a shitty Puegeot that hadn't run for 5 years, from the neighbor's yard.

But it got better, and has progressively gotten better. I got interested in poetry, and grad school pulled me out of the bungalow, and with the luck of my boyfriend getting a really good job, landed us in a fairytale turquoise Victorian house. I got my MFA, and I'm getting to be the "artist" that I always wanted to be, we pay our bills, we eat organic food, I brush my teeth regularly, and yes -- I'm a great mom. My son is really smart, healthy, well-adjusted (most of the time), my boyfriend doesn't drink as much, we have a later-model Jetta wagon, a yard with Christmas decorations.

I'm reminded of that SNL skit with Molly Shannon, and the tatoos. I wasn't quite that bad, and I'm still far from "perfect," but I'm getting used to domesticity. I'm thinking of, someday, having another baby (don't know with who though, lol), and growing up and doing all this "supposed to" stuff isn't so bad.

You seem similar to me, in some ways -- I've read some of your past posts -- and I understand your avoidance of all of it. It might not be just children, but all that children symbolize -- the relegation to a "role," that many of us, who are feminists, aren't quite sure about. I know that I didn't want to get married, or have kids, right up until the moment that I found out I was pregnant. But now, I believe that my son is the best thing that's ever happened to me. And my gentrification, isn't so bad. There's a whole other narrative to being a hip, liberal, educated mom -- and parts of "hip, liberal, educated independent woman" can be incorporated. I find myself living more responsibly, and happily than I was, when I didn't have any possessions, and thought I was being so non-glam glam and self-righteous and minimalist. I take care of myself. And I take care of my baby boy. And it's all ok.

Sure, every once in a while I catch a whiff of techno, or am reminded of the all-day hangover barbeque, or the freedom to jump in any bed that I want. Maybe I'll do that stuff again, when I'm 44, or 48, when my son or children grow up. Hopefully there will still be partiers out there. I have a feeling there will be. And maybe it'll all be different -- with a little more caution and responsibility.