Confessions of a Reluctant Mother

Okay, so I have never been one of those women who absolutely wanted…no, NEEDED to have children. As a matter of fact, I really didn’t want to have children. Unlike a lot of women my age, I didn’t have that maternal need to be nurturing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not heartless; I loved…er, love children. “As long as they were someone else’s” we used to joke. We used to be asked all the time, “When are you going to have kids?”

“Never,” was the usual reply, followed by, “If we ever get the urge, we would just babysit our nieces and nephews. Cures that urge very quickly.”

Then I made a wish (that had nothing to do with kids, by the way), and God granted it…in His own way, and so after 13 years of not trying, my son was born.

Wow.

All of a sudden, I was a mother, and not in the usual “have baby, go home in two days” sense. I had to experience what I finally called “extreme motherhood.” You see, my son came into the world four MONTHS before he was supposed to, which meant 3 1/2 months of NICU visits and 6 weeks of oxygen therapy and apnea monitoring.

All for a child I didn’t ask for.

But God proved to me that He has a sense of humor, and a humbling lesson for me as well.

Faith.

You see, all the time my son was in NICU, I never broke down and cried, never got emotional. Why?

Faith.

For someone who was going through all of this for the first time, I should have been a basket case, borderline having a nervous breakdown. But I didn’t. Why? It’s because I had an unwavering and undeniable faith that my son was going to be fine. And 8 years later, he is still awe-inspiring to me.

But, let’s get back to the original point. I didn’t WANT children.

People sometimes say, “I can’t imagine what my life would be if I didn’t have kids.” But I CAN, because I’ve already been there. We didn’t have to wait until our kids had graduated high school and were out of the house before we got the things we wanted; we had them BEFORE we had kids. So, I can very much imagine what my life would have been without them ’cause I’ve already had that life.

I was told by a friend a long time ago that “Once you have kids, your life is over, and you start living for them.” Interestingly enough, I was told that as a young adult, and it became somewhat of a warning to me. And although I had been pregnant twice before that warning came, it really hit home that I really needed to be careful with my sexuality, or my life would have been “over.” I wasn’t ready for my life to be over at such a young age. And honestly, even after the birth of my first child, I wasn’t ready for my life to be over then either.

But by then it was too late.

But, guess what? I learned it isn’t that your life “ends,” per se, it just takes a different path. Sure, I couldn’t hang with my friends like I used to, but I also found ways around that. So I still have a life, just a bit more subdued. But it took a while to get that way because in the beginning, my “extreme motherhood” didn’t end with the oxygen tank (3 ft tall, nicknamed “R2D2”) leaving the house. There was early childhood therapy, speech therapy, and still to this day, a special education plan for school, which needs to be updated every year. This all took up time that was supposed to be MINE.

But, my life was “over,” remember?

Do I regret having children? Yes, sometimes, when I’m too broke to buy something they need. Or, when I really, really, REALLY want to go somewhere, and can’t find a babysitter. As an older parent, I don’t have the resources that some younger parents have, i.e. available Grandparents or reliable older relatives. My children’s grandparents cannot just babysit most of the time because of their frailties, activities, and distance, so if I need a babysitter, I have to PAY one.

Do I resent my children? No. They have imparted me with wisdom I would not have understood if I was younger. And the only thing I can’t imagine is if I had given birth to them earlier in my life. I would never have had the patience I needed to deal with a child who didn’t talk. Who has periods of totally not understanding what I ask of him. Who is truly non-stop from the time he wakes up, until he goes to sleep.

So, as my 8th Mother’s Day approaches, I still thank God for granting the wish that I made, and for giving me the children I didn’t ask for. Because even though I know I can imagine my life without them…

I don’t want that life anymore, anyway.

About the Author – Patricia D. Webb

Most of my biological family is here in Jacksonville, so even though I was raised in Miami, I was always here just about every summer and Christmas when I was growing up. I am a former tractor-trailer driver by career standards (24 years), but my knowledge base is expansive. I know a little bit about a LOT of things. I’ve called Jacksonville my home since I married my husband in 1993, but it really wasn’t until I had our first child in and came off the road in 2006 that I really began to learn my way around the city. We have two children, ages 6 and 8. My hobbies include reading, crocheting and riding motorcycles, but my passion is to tell my stories from a few perspectives: as an older Mom (I had my first child at 36), as the mother of a special needs child (intellectual disability), and as someone who has learned some really HARD lessons in life. Hopefully in sharing these stories maybe, just MAYBE, someone can learn a little something from the triumphs I’ve had and the mistakes I’ve made, and feel comforted knowing that they are not alone in this battle called “Life.” I also have a rather witty sense of humor which is evident in my writing style. I am passionate about my children’s education (particularly my son who has special needs) and about writing about their antics because, frankly, my children are absolutely hilarious, especially my daughter.