As I was watching Benny's basketball practice the other night, I noticed a fellow mom with her baby. She was bouncing the baby on her knee, making high-pitched, made up words and gurgles, and genuinely seemed to be enjoying herself whilst doing it. The awareness suddenly came over me , as it does from time to time, that I am actually a mom! "I'm a mom??"
How did this happen? Who allowed this? Shouldn't there be a degree or at least a license to obtain such an important role of intense responsibility? Mother. I have no idea what I am doing. I'm under qualified for the position. I am untrained. Is this a practical joke?? It comes over me like a wave.
The moment the nurses first set brand new Benny next to me at the hospital, I felt like I was pranked. "You're giving this precious, highly dependent, extremely fragile, innocent new life to me?" Stop! Theres been a mistake!
I was not a natural mother. Up until the point I knew Benny's wonderful, handsome, sarcastic, "best man I've ever known" father, I was never planning on having kids. It was not a possibility in my reality. I had no pull in my heart, mind, or body (ok, maybe a little pull there) to procreate. I knew the world was overpopulated and we were on a dying planet. Why would I want to add to that? If, at any point, I did start to feel the pull, I figured I could always adopt. Plenty of kids out there needed homes and love. Plus, I wasn't a fan of yucky babies. But, alas, the man with whom I had fallen deeply in love said his life would begin the day his first child was born. *Sigh* What was a gal to do?
So I got knocked up. That was the best part of motherhood. The creation part. (just kidding...kind of) I remember the day I found out I was pregnant. Just a feeling of dissociation. Like walking through a thick fog without a compass. Yes, we were trying to get me pregnant (my how quickly things change)but I didn't expect it to happen so fast. Ben had an unnatural sense of urgency about having kids (or so I thought at the time). I wanted to wait two years, but it became important to try right away. So, three weeks of trying later...(Again, the best three weeks of my life).
Most know about the tragedy that occurred next. Ben got killed in an accident when I was eight weeks pregnant. So there I was, grieving this unimaginable loss while planning to raise a child....alone. Yikes.
Back to the content mother with her baby at basketball practice. I think back to when Benny was a baby, and I was more likely to play a game of poker with him than sing "pop goes the weasel"! We would take road trips and listen to Aesop Rock like a couple of old frat buddies. I barely taught him any of the apparently normal toddler lessons (like numbers, letters, and how to use utensils and speak real words). Instead I taught him how to build houses out of sand, irreverent humor, and post-apocalyptic survival skills. Then it hit me...I'm a dad! I've thought this before but hit really it me in this moment. I've been down on myself for not being a natural mother. I've felt immense guilt and even envy when I see how natural it looks on other moms. I wonder if Benny missed out due to lack of cooing and bouncing on knees. I wish that breastfeeding was the best time of my life (my mom actually said that was true for her), but it wasn't. Far from it actually (think waterboarding).
If there is such a thing as Transparenting, I'm doing that. I inhabit an obviously mom body, but my parenting style is more like a dad. Maybe it's the solo parenting that has forced me to play both roles. Maybe it's just how I was raised, valuing masculine qualities above feminine(can anyone say Patriarchy?). Maybe it's just me. Maybe I am uniquely myself and this is how I show love.
One thing I do know is I love that boy more than I ever imagined was possible. This is the aspect of motherhood with which I completely align. I would die for him without a second thought. His happiness becomes my joy, and he is my favorite human in the known Universe (sorry Oprah). It is incredible. I cannot fathom not being a mother at this point in my life. I don't want to fathom it. His life is my main purpose right now (Don't worry feminists: I have other interests too....buried under a pile of dishes. I am grateful every day, even when I am lost alone without a compass, to be called Mommy/ Daddy.
