To be or not to be

May 4th, 2012 I graduated with my Master's degree. This accomplishment would prove to be my greatest and most worthwhile endeavor of my life thus far. I was so in love with the career I had chosen and so excited to finally know I was done with school.The path to my career was a long and arduous one. I was always determined and driven to be a successful women with a meaningful career. I had finished my internship job and with the little time I spent doing my internship I was able to land my first job interview in the specific area within my job that I loved most. I was in shock, but mostly, I was so ecstatic and proud of myself for finally reaching my main goal life, a career. It was a dream come true. The intention was to not start the job until a few months after my son was born. I kept in contact with my employer in the weeks leading to the birth of my son on my status so they were aware of when my maternity leave would officially start. My future bosses were very understanding and very excited to welcome me to their group. They told me that I was the most qualified individual for the job. I felt so confident about my abilities to perform in my near future job and was excited about the work I would be doing.

Then, a few short week later, my son arrived. I was so sure that I would never have kids, then, I decided I would relent on this decision but was firm in the decision to be a working mom. Since my son was born just before midnight and it had been a long day we didn't spend much time together until the next morning (I opted to have him spend the night in the nursery for the much needed rest.) The reality of that precious baby belonging to me finally hit me, it was overwhelming in a wonderful way. An experience that only a mother can feel. I immediately started having second thoughts about my choice to be a working mom.

Feelings of guilt started to creep over my feelings of love and joy. I needed to get that feeling out. I needed to feel at peace. I never could have anticipated that I would start having doubts about a decision I had made way before the idea of having a child was created. I never wanted anything more than to have a good standing, reputable career. I worked so hard and finally was to the point of starting that career. I was so lucky to be able to land the specific interest area I would be working in right off the bat. I was having a hard time trying to imagine leaving my son for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. All the things I would miss out on and the trials of being a mom and working were weighing heavy on my shoulders. As I considered my options I felt that there was no "right" choice. On one end, I had accepted this amazing job opportunity and my employer was working so well with my situation and patiently waiting for me to start. My employer was counting on me to be there in a few short months. It would be such an inconvenience for them to have to start back at square one with hiring someone. I am true to my word. On the other hand I had been given an extraordinary gift of life. Nothing could beat that feeling and no matter how unworthy or inadequate I felt about being a mother, I knew I would still be the best person to be with my son. I spent a lot of time discussing with my mother and my husband my thoughts, feelings, and concerns regarding this enormous dilemma and all of the pros and cons that went with it. I have never felt more support in my life. Neither one was pressuring me to do what they wanted me to do. Instead, they helped me reach a decision on my own, a decision I needed to be the one to make. Two weeks after having my son, I called my employer and let them know that I would not be able to accept the job like I had previously done.

My would-have-been boss could not have been more understanding. I did not give the specific reason of deciding to stay at home with my son as the reason of backing out but I am sure so figured that was the case. I finally felt at peace. I felt bad about going back on my word on such a big commitment but I knew that my son was more important and that I could not have anticipated I would feel so strongly when my son arrived.  I still keep in keep my foot in the door professionally by continuing my education through attending seminars and conferences throughout the year. I stay in touch with colleagues from my internship and school. Every time I see my old contacts I am asked if I am ready to return to work. I also often receive emails regarding job openings in my career. Every time these things happen I have a brief moment of weakness where I so want to jump right back into my career. Luckily, it is a fleeting feeling and is replaced by the emense happiness I feel when I am with my son.

17 moths later and there is not a day that goes by where I don't regret my decision to be a stay-at-home mom. It is a role I never thought I could or would embrace. It is a difficult and challenging job but ever so rewarding. I feel very fortunate that I am able to have the choice to be a stay-at-home mom and that I chose to be part of my son's daily life. I do not feel like I am missing out on anything like I think I would be feeling if I were working. I do often miss working and I miss the people with whom I worked with. I miss having those bonding friendships and collaborations on a regular basis and the adult interaction. I do someday hope to return to work and I pray that I will be given that opportunity and that I will be prepared. I love my life and I love all the wonderful joys of being a mother, no matter the challenge, it was worth all the sacrifice in the world.

My son and I when he was 2 weeks old

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My son and I currently.

A note to those mothers who choose to work and/or need to work out of necessity: Please do not feel that I am discounting you as a mother by working. It is a personal choice and it does not make anyone less of a mother by working or going to school. I see working moms as strong women. I recognize that it is a difficult balance. I hope all mothers are at peace with their decision to either work or stay home.

What is in a name?

William Jeffrey was here. We decided to give my husband's middle name, William, as the first name because it was a family name on both sides and because it was a well recognized name that is easy to spell and understand. Before I even considered having a child my rules for naming a baby were decided on and meant to follow. I did follow them, to an extent. I did not want a name that could be shortened because I wanted my child to be called by their given name (with the exception of the inevitable nicknames). Eliminating names that can be shortened or that have different versions would help this cause. I didn't want a name that sounded made up. Studies show that people who have common, well known names are more likely to be successful. I didn't want the name to end it an e,i, or y. Just because. I didn't want to the name to be unisex because I didn't want there to be any question of gender upon hearing the name. I didn't want the name to be super common so that my child wouldn't lose some individuality when competing against 10 other people of the same name in the same class or wherever. And, I wanted to name to have a good connotation to it. "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet"-William Shakespeare. I love your first name Shakespeare, but I am not sure I agree with the quote. A name can elicit a certain thought just by the sound of it. So, you may be wondering why I went back on some of these pre-decided rules to come up with William. We didn't decided on the name until about a week or two before William was born. I felt in my heart that it was right. I wanted a name with meaning behind it. My husband was originally against the idea until, after skimming through a baby naming book, I stumbled across names under certain categories (i.e. celebrity, bible, etc.). Under the category, "names that command respect", was the name William. That sold it. I love that my husband and son can share a name. The middle name was easy. It is my father's name. None of my other siblings had used it for their children and I felt that it added that much more meaning to my son. The names come from two of my favorite men that I love.The name has purpose, history, and heritage behind it. It gives a great foundation to shaping my son after the men he was named after.

Now there was a new set of rules. He was not to be called Bill, Willy, Billy, or B.J.. Will was an acceptable nickname but as parents we decided to call him exclusively, William. I cannot control what others will call him or if he decides later in life to go by one of these versions of his name. I plan on calling him William forever. The only deviation I have made for that is coming up with  my own unique nickname for him that I use sparingly and I occasionally like to make a play on words with his name. For example "silly billy" and "where there is a will..iam there is a way" :). I feel so good about my decision to deviate from the rules. The name fits him well and he carries with it two great examples. I encourage all who are currently searching for that "perfect" name for their upcoming child to search within your heart and do not take the task lightly. Your child has to live with the name that you have given them. Consider the implications of each name and keep an open mind. I ended up changing my mind on the rules to which I used to select a name and I couldn't be happier with my decision. I feel confident in knowing that when my son asks where he got his name, I can give him a far greater answer than, "it sounded nice."

Nothing is more pure than a brand new baby.

The big day!

The due date week was the longest week of my life. This little guy was supposed to make an appearance by May 31st according to my OBGYN, at least, that is was I interpreted the due date as. I had had it. I felt I had been patient long enough. Why wasn't he here? I kept trying to anticipate going into labor at any moment. I decided to make an extra visit to the doc to see if they could get things going by stripping the membranes. My husband decided to attend that appointment with me (he usually only attended the important ones and the beginning appointments). I was feeling very anxious and had a lot of anxiety about still being pregnant. I had built up trying to get important things done before the baby came that now I was ready and available he wasn't just coming. No work, no school, graduated, baby stuff complete and now I wait. Well, turns out babies usually come when they are ready, not when mommy is ready and had it. The doc appointment started out as usual. They weighed me and took my blood pressure and my blood pressure was high. They took it again, same results. My whole pregnancy I had never had any sign of a complication, let alone high blood pressure. My doctor determined that I was far enough along at 70% effaced and dilated to a 3 that I could just be admitted to the hospital and put on pitocin.

I was in shock. Was this really happening? My husband went back to work to get his stuff and tell his boss that he it was time to have a baby. I went home to pack and get ready. It was surreal because there was no panic or pain or stress, just excitement. I called my mom to tell her it was time and she was soon on her way. An hour later we checked into the hospital.

We got settled into the delivery room around 2:00 pm. I had never been admitted to the hospital so for me to be a patient and hooked up to an IV was unsettling. The nurse put the IV in and my vein blew up. Seeing my vein balloon up completely stressed me out. This was not normal so she took it out and went and got a new nurse to do it all over again on my other arm. Once all the fluids and medicine was connected to me it was a wait and see game. The contraction was very mild and bearable for the first few hours. I was dilating  but the nurse was not satisfied with the intensity of my contraction, so they decided to break my water. Big change. I was terrified to get an epidural but I was also incapacitated from each contraction. Finally, I decided to bite the bullet after an hour of intense contractions. Turns out, the epidural is not so bad to get put in. The only problem was that the medicine was not working. After about 45 minutes of intense pain despite the epidural, the anesthesiologist came in and made the correct adjustments. Soon after I was completely pain free and numb.  The nurse came in around 10 pm to check me and I was dilated to a 7. She informed me that I would most likely not be having my son until the next day. This was dishartening for me because it was now June 1st, my birthday is June 3rd, and I wanted my son born as far before June 3rd as possible so we could celebrate individual birthdays if we wanted (silly, I know, but this was my thinking at the time). Soon after my Dad and brother came by to check in and visit. After they left the nurse came back in and by now it was a little after 11:00 pm. I told her that I thought the epidural was wearing off because I could feel pressure and that pushing the button for more medicine wasn't helping it. She casually informed me that I was fully dilated and it was time. Um, excuse me?  I had been fine sitting there completely pain free but now she wanted me to do something I was not mentally prepared to do...push.

Dr. Drewes was the first OBGYN I met with from a practice with several OBGYNs to see. I did not have an assigned doctor from that practice. So, I saw most of the doctors within that practice between the 9 months but it was Dr. Drewes who decided to admit me and since the doctor on call was busy delivering another baby, it was Dr. Drewes who was to deliver my baby. I felt it was fitting. Everything started moving along fast now since the waiting was over. My instructions were given. I needed to push when there was a contraction. Now it was all on me. I quickly became panicked and refused to push even though I could tell my son wanted out. I was completely freaked out with the idea of pushing a baby out of me and the unknown. I went off on a rant about how no one could make me push and how I wasn't ready. Everyone was trying really hard to calm me down and convince me it would be ok. The only thing that worked was to play on my stubborness. The nurse finally said that if I wanted to have this baby today then I when need to hurry because it was after 11 pm and fast approaching midnight. That was all I needed to hear. I bucked up and was completely dedicated to getting this baby out as fast as possible. A few pushes later at 11:45 pm on June 1st, 2012 a baby boy was born. 8 lbs. 11 0z, 20 in, full head of gorgous blonde hair, and perfect.

 

 

I was stunned. He was better than I could have ever dreamed he up to be and all my fears were laid to rest. I couldn't believe that he belonged to me and that I would be responsible for such a precious thing. Motherly instincts were starting to kick in now but I had programmed myself for so long on not knowing how to be a mother, because I wasn't planning on being one, that now I was one it seemed very foreign to me. I decided to embrace it and held my precious baby close to me as we enjoyed his purity.

Pregnant and hating it

FYI-just to get caught up on the events of deciding to have a child to now, I am going to document past events till current and on.

I found out I was pregnant on Sept. 18, 2011. I had returned from a weekend trip to my home town where I was celebrating the town's festivities with family and friends. I knew I could be pregnant because that was the goal. I just kept thinking that it hadn't happened yet so it probably wasn't so now. Finally, late that Sunday night I decided to take the test I had taken every month for a few months now. By now I didn't expect much because for some reason I thought I would get pregnant the first month of trying. When the lines turned it looked like it was indicating I was pregnant but I thought the lines were too faint and wouldn't accept the results. I took the test down stairs to my husband and asked what he thought it was indicating. He, almost without any emotion, replied, "it looks like you are pregnant." Even still I would not accept it. I made my husband go to the store and buy a test that would spell out P-R-E-G-N-A-N-T. I took that test and sure enough it spelled it out for me. Now, this is usually where people who are trying to get pregnant get overly excited about the news. I did not. I was still having a hard time believing it was actually happening and now I was doomed (in a manner of having to actually figure out what I swore off for my entire life). I decided to call my mom even though it was like 11:00 pm and I knew she was in bed. She answered and we spoke very briefly. It didn't take her long to spread the news to my sister (who was also pregnant but she had been trying for years).

Since I had never paid any attention to babies and children, other than to observe why I never wanted one for myself, I had no idea what to do from here. I was completely out of my comfort zone. At first I thought I was invincible because I felt no signs of being pregnant. I had found out about as soon as a person can so it hadn't really kicked in yet. That didn't take long. I had morning sickness, although, I am not sure who came up with the idea it was only in the morning. This was an all day event. Before I got pregnant I decided that being pregnant my last year of graduate school would be fine. Even though I had to complete 700 hours towards my practicum and internship. Let me tell you, this is a hard thing to do when you are nauseous 24-7 on top of working my regular job. I soon found that in order to complete my hours by May 2012 and graduate I would need to quit my job. And so I did. I also came to the realization that my due date was May 31st 2012 which was 2 weeks after my last class. No big deal right? Wrong. My last class was only offered once a year for a full week 8-5 in May and I had to go and stay in a different city to attend the class. If I missed it I would have to wait a whole other year just to graduate! I stressed and stressed and stressed over this. I tried everything I could to negotiate with my department but they were not able to help. Many people assured me that I probably wouldn't got into labor until I was full term. I realized this was probably true but that even the possibility of it happening that one week I needed it not to was stress enough for me. After months of stressing I finally accepted that there was nothing to be done but wait and see. Incidentally, my practicum portion (which is only 100 hours) took longer to complete because of the constant nausea. I don't handle nausea very well at all. My supervisors were very understanding and seeing as I wasn't getting paid I had no real obligation to be there all the time. My "morning" sickness lasted for 5 months! I know there are people who had it worse than me because I didn't lose any weight or have to be put on a I.V or anything. I just spent my days putting in my internship hours and then going home and laying down for the rest of the day. My husband got so tired of seeing me just lay there and I wasn't on bed rest. I have some comical stories as a result of my extreme nausea but I will spare you from those.

The rest of my pregnancy went extremely well. No problems. Once my belly developed the only problem was the usual problems. Just being uncomfortable and looking huge. I had the swollen fingers and my feet started really swelling up towards the end of the pregnancy. We were so eager to find out the sex of the baby that I went to a clinic just to get an ultra sound to find out at 17 weeks rather than at my doctors appointment at 20 weeks. It's a boy! We were so excited. My husband kept thinking it would be a girl and I never had any feelings one way or the other. I assumed it would have to be a boy since way more boys are produced on my husband's side of the family. I was relived it was a boy. I can barely handle being a girl myself let a lot raising a one. I get along much better with boys.  Now the challenge was coming up with a name. We didn't decide on that until the week he was born. I ended up making it through my last class without a hitch. And, 2 weeks later my son was born.

Finding myself again

Let me start by describing my old point of view on motherhood. I did not want to be a mother. Ever. I was determined to keep to this idea the rest of my life. This was not a secret I kept to myself, either. I was very vocal about how I had no desire to be a mother. Don't get me wrong, kids are cute, but they weren't for me. I never felt that I could relate or interact with children. I didn't understand how they worked or how to communicate with them. Being that I am the youngest of 5 children, all close in age, and having most of my cousins around my age, I never really interacted with children. When I happened to be in a situation where interaction was available I felt like kids just gave me blank stares to any attempt I tried in connecting with them. Meanwhile, it seemed that every one else was able to play and laugh with the children. I refused to make any compromises to appeal to the children such as participate in "baby" talk or funny faces because it didn't fit my personality. I have always enjoyed my independence and I did not want the "burden" of a child holding me back from freely going anywhere or doing anything. I was also scared of the effects a pregnancy would have on my body and the permanent changes that could be made. I felt that I knew relatively nothing about children or how to take care of them for more than a few hours. I valued my sleep. I was not comfortable with the physical act of giving birth and did not view it as a "beautiful" process. Basically, I had a long list of reasons not to have a child and that was reason enough for me.

Luckily, I married a very understanding and accepting man. He never pressured me to have a child but did express interest in wanting a child someday. He made it clear that the decision would be mine to make. There were those who doubted I would forever stick to the "no children" plan and I would assure them it was not for me. Then, there were those who agreed that although, I wouldn't be a bad mother, I didn't have the personality for the task. I didn't watch Disney movies as a child or at least do not recall them, really. I never got excited over seeing a baby, nor did I have a desire to hold them. I didn't know nursery rhymes or children games. I very much enjoyed my lifestyle free of children and did not feel the urge to compromise that with offspring. My mother was unaccepting of my claim to never have children and would occasionally bring up the issue of me needing to start a family.

Everything was going well until things in my life starting settling. Most of my friends had moved on from me since I was married. My husband and I had graduated with our bachelor degrees. My husband had continued on to grad school and eventually I followed. 2 years after being married we moved out of our college town and into a suburban area. We were surrounded by families. This did not phase me because previously, we were surrounded by newly weds with babies and that was worse. I wasn't bothered by other people having children but by the fact that I was expected to follow suit. My husband had his first real paying job. We started saving for a house (or in our case, rental property). After almost a year of living in our new environment I started to be haunted by my thoughts of having children. At first, I felt that it was just the pressure of the culture I lived in and it's expectations to have children. I was determined to not conform to the idea that I "needed" to be a mother that was so often talked about within the culture. Then, I thought it was probably just a fleeting feeling. I had my dog and that was child enough for me. Even that had it's challenges I didn't enjoy. I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself for some time.

One day I worked up the courage to nonchalantly bring up the idea to my husband. Of course, he didn't take me seriously at first given that I had insisted for years that I would never have children and why. I expressed how I felt like I was missing something. That is when things really took off. We starting the process of looking for property to buy and I had a realization. Who was I to deny my husband of a child? I made the commitment to him and he was so willing to accept my decision not to have children. I decided I was being selfish as a wife and over my body. I was so concerned about the physical repercussions and what I saw as forfeiting my youth. I realized that I was missing the bigger picture. Who would care for me when I was old? I never thought that was reason enough to have a child but I felt I needed to be forced, in a way, to be less selfish and learn to sacrifice more. Once I made the decision I was sure. Even though I didn't exactly know what I was getting myself into. I felt it was the right thing to do and tried not to worry about the rest, especially when I felt I was not equipped personality wise to be a mother. Four months later we had bought a four-plex, moved in, and I was pregnant. Wow, there was no turning back now. And so, the story of redefining who I was and everything I fought against begins. More on this to come.