Alienating Honesty to Thwart Guilt

Maybe I come off a little too TMI for some of you. Maybe I come off arrogant. Maybe I come off like I have it all together. Maybe I come off as a loud-mouthed, crazy woman.

One thing that is not a maybe, that is pure truth, I have hid from you all. Rather, I've hid it from every single person on this Earth except for two people. Why now? Why divulge such brutal honesty that will surely alienate the majority of my readers?

That's easy. I need to be me--the full, unedited me or I can't do this blogging thing any longer.

You see, I've tried to see the other side of this dilemma. Cut up the lemons to make lemonade. Visited a therapist when those lemons sat cut on the cutting board refusing to make a delectable treat. Yet, I could never shake the resentment and just move on. At least, that's how I felt until I really sat down and ruminated in the frustration over children and their physical bounty.

What I discovered is what I will share right now: being a mom does not suit me. Being a stay at home mom is killing me. Every. Single. Day.

While you all start dialing CPS, let me explain. I never wanted children, especially not "natural" ones. Before getting married, The Hubs and I had many talks about children. He was open to the idea. I was not. When I was slightly open, I was only open to adoption. This is still how I felt when I got accidentally pregnant with numero uno. And this is still how I felt when I got accidentally pregnant again with numero dos. Frankly, this is still how I feel today two children and almost four years later.

So why have them? Why not get an abortion or give them up? Firstly, I could never get an abortion. Ever. If I was in favor of abortion, trust me, neither kiddo would be here today. As for adoption, I brought up the idea, but no one took me seriously as I was married. I was stuck. And as for why I never wanted children, that's easy. I was never around younger children growing up. Despite babysitting and nannying (which I loved), I still knew being a mother wasn't for me. I was an academic.* I had a brain.* I should be using the gifts I was given over being a mother.* Plus, my own parents never once discussed the idea of getting married and creating a family. We were raised to achieve, achieve, achieve, whether is was academically or career-related. Marriage and babies didn't fit into that equation.

Well, marriage fit into my equation early on and is still something I love (as hard as it is). As for the kids, I'm still not ready. I love them. They're funny. They share my eyes and ears and toes. They share my daredevil qualities. But staying at home feels like I am constantly decaying. Yes, kids can be funny and interesting, but I rarely feel that extreme joy I hear from most mothers--the "how could life be any better!" or "I can't imagine my life without/before children!" or "this is the best job ever!" And the guilt sinks in because I'm not one of those moms. Frankly, I will never be. Only, I am now okay with that.

No more beating myself up for not loving every minute. No more crying over how I just don't fit in with the rest of those "born mothers." No more trying to be someone I am not.

I am me. An accidental mother who needs work and college to maintain happiness. A young woman who stopped her dreams to try and raise two vibrant boys. A person completely imperfect, but perfectly honest.

With that off my chest (finally), I will retreat. The hate will most likely invade my inbox. But I stand strong in knowing that my children will only flourish with my decision to take a step towards my version of happiness. Whether I choose work or school, I feel confident that the boys will be getting a better mom.

*Obviously, there are SO many mothers that love mothering and are academics/brainiacs. This was just a notion I received growing up--Smart women work. They don't stay home.