It may surprise you to know that I look back most at the words of encouragement I have received about how special it is to become a parent. I read them over again frequently.
I don’t see how I could possibly be sexy after giving birth. I would have things like stretch marks to contend with, and cracked nipples! The carefree, spontaneous, girl who never grows up would have to grow up. I would have to be reliable, everyday.
There would be challenges even more challenging than trying to protect and nurture an infant. What about when they are old enough to start asking me a million questions – “What? Where? When? Which? Who? How? Why?” that I am not sure how to answer. What about their hormonal teenage years? What am I supposed to say to them then? Or when they are trying to knuckle down and take their education and career seriously and I think back to my own youth and remember walking out on jobs where I thought everyone was a crook.
Sometimes I feel that sense of the clock ticking steadily. Apparently if we are going to do it, we should do it soon. Only the desire still evades me. I will do it. I will do it for his sake. But it frightens the heebie-jeebies out of me.
So those words of encouragement mean so much. They really do. For some reason I have looked back and read them over and over again.