To Have and To Have Not
First, let me say that I'm really glad I married Sam and that I couldn't be more grateful to be having this baby. My feelings about these life changes are unambivalently positive--especially since the morning sickness has worn off. But what's been harder to adjust to is my new "membership" in the two different "clubs" of marriage and (prospective) parenthood. Not because I have anything against married people--hey, some of my best friends are married! Nor because I have anything against parents--I have two of them, and they're great!
But when Sam and I got engaged, one of my friends startled me by saying, "Now you can join the married club!" (Years before, she had told me after she got married that once you are married, you aren't really interested in your single friends anymore.) The thing about this person is that she's so innocent and goodhearted that she meant that earlier comment entirely inoffensively, and she was only expressing her happiness for me in the more recent conversation.
So why do comments like this bug me SO much? And why does it make me crazy when, in discussing whether the other faculty in my department has been supportive of my taking leave in the spring, a colleague (from another department) says "Well, they don't have children . . ." and shrugs, like "How could they possibly understand what we know?"
I think it's this: Yes, marriage is definitely changing me, and yes, I'm learning things as a result of it that I never learned before in my life and would not have learned without the influence of a roommate, male no less, that I'm bound for the rest of my life to love, honor, cherish, and submit to (Heaven help us with fulfilling that last-minute addition to both of our wedding vows). But I'm not sure that any of those lessons are the distinctive property of marriage per se.
That is, I've also learned a lot from my friendship with JS, which has become, to both of our surprise, another lifelong bond--of the sort (like marriage) that means that when the going gets tough, you might as well make the best of it because there is no escape clause. Real friendships are like that. And more years of experience living in the world as a single person would also have taught me other lessons, about loyalty and commitment and trust--some of which might overlap with marriage, and others of which might not.
In the same way, having children doesn't seem to me to impart some kind of absolute wisdom or understanding of life, the universe, etc. Expecting this baby does give my life, as they say, a sense of purpose--but what's important, I think, is that it's not the ONLY sense of purpose I've ever had. . . just a new and different one. One that I suspect could be intoxicating in its specificity and comprehensiveness, except that I cannot forget that I had a sense of purpose before I got pregnant too. Even now, as I can feel my priorities irresistibly and irreversibly resetting themselves around this tiny being, and even as I recognize that perhaps the most important specific charge given to me at present is to protect and love her--even now, all I can say is that it's the most important charge for me now, but not the most important one in life for everybody.
To suggest otherwise somehow seems to dishonor the work of God in all of our lives, unmarried people and people without children--like Jesus, anyone?--along with married people and parents. Membership may have its privileges, but I don't think that self-importance, or mindlessness of the value of each life God blesses in any number of ways, should be one of them.
But when Sam and I got engaged, one of my friends startled me by saying, "Now you can join the married club!" (Years before, she had told me after she got married that once you are married, you aren't really interested in your single friends anymore.) The thing about this person is that she's so innocent and goodhearted that she meant that earlier comment entirely inoffensively, and she was only expressing her happiness for me in the more recent conversation.
So why do comments like this bug me SO much? And why does it make me crazy when, in discussing whether the other faculty in my department has been supportive of my taking leave in the spring, a colleague (from another department) says "Well, they don't have children . . ." and shrugs, like "How could they possibly understand what we know?"
I think it's this: Yes, marriage is definitely changing me, and yes, I'm learning things as a result of it that I never learned before in my life and would not have learned without the influence of a roommate, male no less, that I'm bound for the rest of my life to love, honor, cherish, and submit to (Heaven help us with fulfilling that last-minute addition to both of our wedding vows). But I'm not sure that any of those lessons are the distinctive property of marriage per se.
That is, I've also learned a lot from my friendship with JS, which has become, to both of our surprise, another lifelong bond--of the sort (like marriage) that means that when the going gets tough, you might as well make the best of it because there is no escape clause. Real friendships are like that. And more years of experience living in the world as a single person would also have taught me other lessons, about loyalty and commitment and trust--some of which might overlap with marriage, and others of which might not.
In the same way, having children doesn't seem to me to impart some kind of absolute wisdom or understanding of life, the universe, etc. Expecting this baby does give my life, as they say, a sense of purpose--but what's important, I think, is that it's not the ONLY sense of purpose I've ever had. . . just a new and different one. One that I suspect could be intoxicating in its specificity and comprehensiveness, except that I cannot forget that I had a sense of purpose before I got pregnant too. Even now, as I can feel my priorities irresistibly and irreversibly resetting themselves around this tiny being, and even as I recognize that perhaps the most important specific charge given to me at present is to protect and love her--even now, all I can say is that it's the most important charge for me now, but not the most important one in life for everybody.
To suggest otherwise somehow seems to dishonor the work of God in all of our lives, unmarried people and people without children--like Jesus, anyone?--along with married people and parents. Membership may have its privileges, but I don't think that self-importance, or mindlessness of the value of each life God blesses in any number of ways, should be one of them.
posted by Tara | 12:18 PM
6 Comments:
Do you think that you will love your baby in a way that you don't love Sam, or anyone else in the world? If so, does that bother you or please you or neither?
I *love* that you wrote. It captures so much of what I feel, so well. Thanks for articulating it so beautifully and poignantly.
If you ever become one of those overly smug married people with children I'll let you know. What are friends for :)
hear, hear!
Hmmm... It's possible I'm skimming this too quickly while I'm supposed to be working. But I'm afraid I have to be the dissenting voice. Which I'm feeling guilty about, as you invoked Jesus in the last paragraph or two. :)
I think the point your colleagues/friends were making is, it's a chasm you don't cross back over. Even more than marriage (to me -- oops, that doesn't say anything about my marriage, does it?), parenthood changes your life, and your perspective, irreversibly. You just don't see things the same any more. There are a lot more 'pro' or 'anti' kid issues out there than you ever realized. Because you weren't really paying attention so much. No matter how long my childless friends can possibly sit there and try to imagine what it's like to be held hostage to the whims of a screaming infant, 24/freakin/7, they cannot know. Nor can they know the depth to which your heart is tied to a small, mostly ungrateful but always unbelievably precious little human.
Sorry to be dramatic (or worse, condescending), but it's far more all-consuming than you probably realize even yet.
I cast a firm vote for parenthood as the single biggest life-changing event, is what I'm saying. I'd be curious to hear you revisit this one in a year or two. It's quite possible I'm just one of those parents who 'takes it too far.'
Dave: Yes, and delighted. :)
Hermance: It's always good to see you here!
Julie: I wouldn't have expected anything less.
Erin: I've never known whether it was "hear, hear" or "here, here." Embarrassing but true. So, thanks!
Kate: I don't doubt that it's the biggest change, or that I'll learn things I couldn't have known. But what I doubt is whether it produces spiritual virtues that are exclusive to parenthood . . . probably I should have made that clearer!
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