How do I know when I’m ready to have kids?
This is the question, isn’t it? I’ve been asked this. And I’ve asked this. And unfortunately, there is no real answer to this. It’s all a bunch of talk. There is no way to know what it will feel like to be a parent. No way to experience parenthood before choosing to live it. I don’t care if you’re the best aunt or babysitter in town, there is no defining moment of “readiness.”
It’s like trying to explain to a 15 year old what it’s like to be 30. Think of the transformation between 15 and 30. The ways your brain and heart changed, and stayed the same. You are you, but also someone totally different. And that 15-year-old-you couldn’t be the 30-year-old-you without living through that time. You cannot give a 15 year old a diary or a book or a job or a mortgage or a hangover or anything that will truly allow them to experience and understand the next 15 years of their life. This is what it’s like to ask a parent to translate parenthood. I just can’t.
Here’s what I can do. I can tell you what qualities and practices make it a lot easier.
Get comfortable with flexibility. Do you hate change? Or the sudden collapse of your plans? How do you handle getting a flat tire? Tangled Christmas lights? Sweet potato puree on the rug? Get good at it. Get good at taking a deep breath. Get good at taking a pause. Get good at going, “okay, here’s what we’re going to do instead.” Or, “that’s okay, we have always figured shit out and we will now.” Or even, “holy mother of god, I need 20 minutes where no one talks to me.” And whenever possible, laugh about it.
Understand that it’s okay to not have a solution or some innate magical knowledge. This is true of most things in life, but I can’t think of anything as answer-less as having a baby. Seriously. They’re all different. And everyone with unsolicited advice thinks that because they raised their own kid, they suddenly know them all. Like they’re robots or riddles, but they’re not. You’re going to get it wrong a few times, and right a bunch more. As far as anyone can tell, we’re all first timers on this planet. And it is okay to be a human while you raise a human.
Consider (over and over again) that you’re raising a whole-ass human being. This is a big one because I think people often imagine having a baby, but forget to imagine creating a full and complex life for another person. Which is heavy, yes, but it’s also a giant relief in those early days. I don’t believe there are any grown adults in therapy right now because their parents chose formula over breastmilk. No one is a bully because their mom forgot to pack extra clothes in the diaper bag. No one is in an unhappy marriage because they had a swing instead of a bouncer when they came home from the hospital. I could go on all day with this. And it’s truly one of the best practices for me. Does this thing that is giving me stress, does it change the type of person I’m raising? Does it truly change their quality of life? What matters here?
Practice slowing down. Slowing down as a parent often requires intension. But childhood can happen fast. And it is a unique and important reminder of how absolutely incredible it is to be alive. You get to watch someone learn that things fall down. That objects they can’t see still exist. That tickles cause laughter. That flowers bloom. And that Playdough tastes fantastically salty. Every single little tiny moment that you take for granted as an adult is new all over again. If you don’t slow down, you might miss it.
Learn to give yourself some fucking grace. Work on that internal dialogue. Please. You’re not too fat. You’re not too lazy. You’re not too emotional. You’re not too weak. You’re not too lost. You’re not too anything. You are exactly what you need. And anything you are not yet, you have the capacity to be. If you haven’t totally accepted this truth, you’re going to need some people in your life that are able to remind you often.
