Midnight Reflections

I feel like it’s inevitable for a young girl to dream of a life with her own family. Dressing her daughter in Strawberry Shortcake overalls, braiding her daughter’s hair, bouncing on the trampoline with her beloveds. I used to be one of those girls. Sometimes. 

I stopped wanting children when my eldest sister had my niece. That sounds so fucked up, but I fear it’s true. I became a tia (aunt) when I was 6 years old. I was the youngest in my family. I was the baby. A jealous baby. To put into perspective, if you read my previous blog “Little Ladybug,” you could imagine why I hated when the attention was directed towards my niece and not me. I was quickly discarded. All I ever thought was, “damn, now i’m really not going to be loved by my sisters.” Because of this, I could never fathom having children and watching my eldest do the same to their youngest sibling.

I used to absolutely loathe my eldest sister for having a child. I never expected any of my sisters to have children and I still can’t even imagine my sisters having anymore kids. I regretfully resented my sister for “ruining” my life with this baby. I wanted more time, more attention, and more love. I thought I still had a chance to get all of these things but my dream was crushed when it was all taken away from me with no consideration and no mercy.

Make no mistake, my niece is now my baby. I love that little girl with my soul and she will forever be my baby. I love my sister, and I couldn’t be anymore happier with the new love in my life she has gifted the entire family. Obviously when I was young, my jealousy made me feel otherwise, so just bear with me.

With this rage, I took in the realization that I was never made for motherhood. I’m not comforting. I’m not admirable. I’m not the warmest woman on earth. I have no nurturing bone in my body. These were things I was perfectly ok with…until I just wasn’t.

As I get older, I realize I really want to be all of things. I know now that i’ve always wanted to have these beautiful characteristics, I just didn’t want to hurt myself with the ugly truth. I am the most non-nurturing woman on earth. Once I finally started enjoying the beautiful existence of my niece, and then came along my beloved nephew, I realized I was just too young to want to be great. I was too selfish. Too immature. Too self-absorbed. Too much of my father’s daughter.

It gets hard hearing others in my family say I wouldn’t be a good mother. I can’t even build the courage to ask them if I would be because I already know their answer. I already know. I know I could never be compared to my third oldest sister because she is everything I always wanted to be. Everybody in my family agrees she will be the best mother. She’ll be the favorite. She’ll be the most patient, most attentive, most admirable. I don’t know how I could ever live up to that. I just can’t. I’ve already created a horrible reputation for myself.

It wasn’t until the love of my life came along to tell me that I would be an amazing mother that I started seriously reconsidering. It was a warm compliment, but every time he said it, I couldn’t help but feel like he was lying straight through his pretty teeth. I really want it to be true. I dug myself into this deep, dark hole of a ruined woman. I am not ideal. I am not favorable. I’m not even the girl you want to make your child’s madrina (god mother). I can’t even be trusted babysitting because I am the shittiest woman alive.

I would do anything to go back in time and change this. I know I can’t, so I won’t ponder on it any longer, but I desperately want someone to tell me that I would be such a good mother. I want to be nurturing. I know I can be. I know I will be. I will love my child like my life depended on it. I will defend, protect, and nurture my baby with the love I know I bleed endlessly.

Let it once be me. Please.

That is all I have ever asked for as an official adult. I see my boyfriend and I see the amazing person I want to be. I know I could be a good mother. I’ll teacher manners, respect, and give reasons on why they can’t do what they just did. I know I can listen to what it is they’re feeling. I just know that i will be so attentive, caring, and warm. My heart is punctured with many holes that I know only my future children can fill. I would love them even in the after life, so much that no universe can tear us apart. I don’t even know them, I’m not even thinking of having them any time soon and I already love and adore them.

I have my future daughter’s name picked out. I could be a good mother, I really can. It’s a process that I am proudly working on. I can’t give up any dream I have about motherhood just because I grew up a mad woman. If I can love, I can nurture, and if I can nurture, I can bear.

Let it be a sign that you can be a good mother. You can love, you can nurture, you can care. Though I am not a mother and don’t plan on it any time soon, obviously, I know enough to say good motherhood comes when a woman lays her eyes on the beautiful button nose of her child. It comes when you hear the first cry. It comes when the touch of your finger soothes the mini you that you cradle in your arms.

Being a good mother isn’t science, it just takes your child’s circuit to charge the electricity in your heart.

– A, a future good mother