Whenever I find myself talking with someone who’s thinking about having a first child, I’m never quite sure what to say. I tend to be encouraging in a general way, because when it’s all said and done, I do believe having a child is a worthwhile pursuit and a net gain in the happiness column.
But lawdy, you give up a lot. Specifically, a woman gives up a lot to have a child (it seems to me). Some of it’s fairly superficial, like weight gain, stretch marks, and all the other ways a body can change when you grow a baby inside it. The real leap of faith, though, is entrusting your unborn child’s future to the hands of some man you’ve only known for a couple years. Will he be a good father? Will he be a supportive husband?
I’m a far better father than I am a husband. Which is another challenge of parenthood. Suddenly you take on a new job, and it’s not like overseeing an additional report or being responsible for the coffeemaker at the end of the day. Unless you have a really expensive coffeemaker that needs to be clothed and fed and changed and watched constantly. Then it might be like being responsible for the coffeemaker. Otherwise…not.
Deciding to have a first child is like working up the courage to jump off the high board at the pool for the first time. You spend a lot of time sitting at the edge of the pool, watching all the other people jumping off and either loving the plunge into the water or not, and you wait there until the little voice in your head that’s saying, “Go ahead and climb that ladder, already!” becomes loud and insistent enough to overwhelm the voice that’s saying, “You’re insane to go up there.” After your feet finally leave the end of the board and you drop through the air to your big entry, you’ve gotta get back to the surface and swim like crazy for the edge of the pool. Except no matter how fast you paddle, the edge of the pool always stays just out of reach. And so it goes. But the water sure is nice.