Mom Genes
As a young woman marriage and kids were the furthest thing on my mind and on my to-do list. As my career blossomed, my calendar filled with networking events and happy hours. A serial monogamist from my very first crush in sixth grade, I enjoyed being in relationships but the lingering commitment of a binding legal contract that emphasized forever, and the permanence of parenthood terrified me. It’s just not for me, I would tell myself as I scrolled through my ever-evolving social media timeline of engagement photos and baby announcements.
The truth behind the lie I kept telling myself was that I was actually afraid of commitment. Denying that I actually wanted these things although I knew deep down inside that I did, was my defense mechanism. I couldn’t commit to the idea of spending my life with someone because I grew up with parents in a loveless marriage, together out of duty and responsibility. I didn’t want children because I couldn’t bear the thought of my child resenting me as much as I grew up resenting my parents. I opted out to avoid the discomfort that came with marriage and parenthood and tucked the trauma in a vault and hid it as far from my subconscious as I could. But like anything we store away, eventually it resurfaces, forcing us to face it and properly dispose of it.
Years of heartbreak and pain that settled into a permanent living space in my psyche, between depression, failed relationships and the passing of my father, tore me open and left me exposed. It’s ironic how some of the worst moments in your life, are the same ones that propel you to the next level. At 25 years old, I picked myself off of the concrete floor I landed on and started over.
When my husband and I started dating, I was ready to stand still. I spent years running around trying to avoid settling down by RSVP’ing to every event that flooded my inbox, but he felt like home. He was the grounding energy that alluded me and the realization of it was a mixture of emotions that bordered on fear and excitement. I stared commitment in the face and was finally able to smile back. I retired my running shoes.
Don’t get it twisted, life was/is not all rainbows and sunshine. It’s a slow and painful process to undo years of programming and trauma, and it takes a village. Therapy, spiritual advisers, life coaches, self-help books, meditation and constant research. The road to enlightenment is a bumpy one. I overcame my first hurdle and after five years of dating we were married.
The second question people ask you immediately after you get married is, “So when are you having kids?”, nervous laughter was my go-to response. My mental to-do list became a rationalization of all the reasons why I couldn’t/shouldn’t have a child - I can’t have a child now there are so many places I want to go; I haven’t written my book yet; I’m not where I want to be in my career; I’m not ready to sacrifice my personal time. The list became more of a scroll.
I was making excuses, but I had to stop and think why? I’m pretty much the most emotionally sensitive, helpful, kind and nurturing person I know. But the idea of motherhood seemed burdensome, and like such a huge tedious, responsibility. I thought that being a mother meant sacrificing everything I wanted for myself and my life, but above all I was afraid to fail. I would be responsible for another human being for the rest of my life - at least I could get out of my marriage if I had to - and what if I was terrible at it, what if I disappointed them, what if they hated me?
At the core of my feelings, what was it about my own childhood and the relationship with my own mother that I was projecting into fear? That’s what I had to resolve and come to terms with before I progressed. I love my dear mom now, before not so much. I examined the decisions and choices she made and for once in my life I understood her and I respected her even more. Once I was able to forgive and resolve those issues, I focused on my preconceived notions of what a family looks like. Did I forget that kids can travel too, and that I can still have hopes and dreams for myself without being selfish and narcissistic?
Sometimes we invent problems that don’t even exist under the guise of “protecting” ourselves from hurt and failure. Reality is we’re not doing ourselves any favors, working through these moments of resistance, is what gets us to where we need to be.
I turned to my husband in the car one day after being away for a long work trip and said casually, “I’m ready to start trying to get pregnant next year,” he returned a smiled in response. The universe must have been laughing at us because I was already 5 weeks pregnant and didn’t even know it.
While I thought all along that becoming a mother would set me back, it has actually set me up for more opportunities than ever before. I’ve never felt closer to God/the universe, whatever you proclaim it, as I have in this process. I don’t wear mom jeans, but I have embraced my mom genes and can’t wait for this new adventure.
What themes of resistance have come up for you that you want to work through? Comment below.
