I am a realist with a Pollyanna streak. But I ‘what if’d’ myself silly the first year of my kids’ life.
What if . . .
- I’d only had one baby?
- There had been no complications at birth?
- I didn’t have to drag to therapy every day now?
- What if my son never walks?
- What if my daughter always has behavior issues?
- What if I had the time and energy to just make it through a Zumba class?
The list goes on.
Expectations can really mess you up. At some point I realized the only thing I should have been expecting was the babies. We gave ourselves the first year to grieve what our vision of parenthood had been. Then we resolved not to talk about it near the kids so they would not pick up any negativity. Then it was sort of a grieving process again, trying to bit my tongue, find other ways to say things in front of the kids and manage myself.
What if . . . the possibilities are endless. Mostly not good things. But . . . what if . . . the good thing(s) happened? Indeed, what if . . .
_Lexi is a mom to triplets and a teenage stepson, and writes about parenting and figure skating._