An Admirable Woman?

It’s common knowledge among those who know me that I absolutely never, ever wanted to get pregnant and make a baby. Ever. Even if I were to change my mind and decide I wanted a kid later on in life, I wanted to adopt one. There was no way in hell I was going to use my body to bring a brand-new human life into this world, especially when our planet is overpopulated by humans and there are so many other people out there who are contributing to the problem.

It has been extremely common during my life, whenever I would express my vehement abhorrence at the idea of making a baby, to hear from family and friends, “You never know!” So often, as well-meaning as they may have been, I would hear, “Stuff happens,” and, “You might change your mind!” My response to this would be to think, and sometimes say, No. I know myself, goddammit, and I do not want to make a baby. Even if I want kids later, I do not want to make one, goddammit.

So, when I found out I was pregnant, I was absolutely devastated. It was too late for me to stop it—I was going to have this baby whether I liked it or not and I most certainly did not like it, not then. In addition to the devastation, however, I was petrified of the idea of all of the friends and family who had mocked me, coming back and saying, “I told you so!” in one form or another. When I posted the first ultrasound photo, I added to it, “No gloating.” My biggest fear was my father—he had been my greatest antagonist.

I posted a couple of text posts about the pregnancy on Tumblr. The responses I received—surprising as they were, considering nobody ever messages me about anything on that site—were mixed. The first told me to abort it. Another told me that I am a “ridiculously abhorrent person” and that I don’t deserve my pets or a child. I responded rather well, I think, but the words still stuck with me. As someone who has struggled the majority of her life with depression, the fact that someone—even a complete stranger—had called me a horrible person stuck in my head and circulated throughout my cerebrum. Never mind that this person knows nothing about me or my life.

I’m not sure how I dismissed that message and managed not to let it bring me down, but I did. Somehow, I brushed it off and moved on.

Despite never wanting pregnancy or anything that comes with it, I decided I wanted to get involved in my base’s New Parent Support Program (NPSP) and take some classes. A nice lady named Tara called me from the program after, while at an orientation related to O.B. visits and available hospitals and so forth, I filled out a paper indicating that I had interest in what the NPSP had to offer. From there, Tara and I set an appointment for her to visit my house and give her “Babies 101” class.

Randy and I found the information absolutely invaluable and I set my next appointment with Tara to learn about breastfeeding. I didn’t think Randy would need to be at this class, so I didn’t have him set the time to get out of work for it. The day of the appointment, Tara forgot her breastfeeding materials and the class became Babies 201 instead. I took the information given to me, as well as a video, and shared with Randy what he had missed. We watched the video—all about newborns—and he was absolutely engrossed.

The next appointment taught us how to swaddle and bathe a newborn, as well as what to pack in a diaper bag. It was great—all of the appointments were great and I loved learning, because I had no idea what it would take to raise a baby prior to having taken these classes with Tara.

What Tumblr might not know, due to my lack of sharing, is that I plan to breastfeed and homeschool my daughter. I don’t trust other people to take care of her and I think daycares are disgustingly filthy anyway, so I won’t be working outside the home (at least not full time). Do I truly not deserve to have her, when I am planning to do everything in my power to give her everything I never had, growing up? Public schools in the United States are a joke, but even if they weren’t—even if they had decent systems of education in place—there’s the fact that there have been at least 74 school shootings since Sandy Hook Elementary School, and I will not risk my child’s life by sending her to a school that could be shot up any day by some crazy kid.

I told Tara I plan to breastfeed and do homeschooling. She told her assistant, who came to two of our last three classes alongside Tara so she could learn the job she was taking on. Both women told me they really admire that I am “opening myself up” to this baby, even though I never wanted any of this. They think it’s admirable of me to plan on breastfeeding and homeschooling.

I’m not so sure. I just want to do what’s best for my child. I’m actually highly judgmental of parents who do not do research or take classes like I’ve been doing—parents who think they know it all but really don’t; parents who will choose to formula feed when there’s nothing wrong with their breast milk; parents who will willingly send their children to public school even if they know it’s a terrible option; parents who will send their kids off to be taken care of by other people, rather than take care of them personally when they could be doing that. I am judgmental. Am I really an admirable person for wanting my child to have the best upbringing possible? Am I really admirable for wanting her to have all of the health benefits of my breast milk, for wanting her to have a good education that I can monitor for quality?

I don’t know, but it was certainly a wonderful—if uncomfortable and difficult to swallow—compliment.