This is Parenthood

Emelia Symington Fedy —  February 2, 2014 — 6 Comments

Imagine considering this a reasonable arrangement.

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Imagine thinking 6am is a fucking awesome sleep in.

Now, imagine a thin metal rod piercing your tits.

Imagine that rod making many small holes in your nipples so that yeast grows inside them and now your friends call you “yeasty tits” but you don’t care because you are too busy scratching.

Imagine saying to your partner “hey honey come check out the color of my douche.”

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And also imagine sleep becoming waayyyyyyyyy sexier than any tantric secret or ass spanking ever could be.

Imagine telling your partner you have to be at work at 10 am when really you have to be there at noon because you want to sit in your car and catch up on emails.

Then when you come home, imagine telling your partner you have diarrhoea so you can sneak the computer into the toilet to get a bit more work done.

Imagine being woken 3-6 times every night by an air raid siren.

Then imagine that siren puking in your mouth.

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Imagine tiny fingernails cutting bloody holes all over your face so you begin to look like a crack head.

Imagine sobbing “I can’t water the plants anymore…It’s just too much!” and meaning it.

Imagine running around the house at 2 am screaming “where’s the soozie? Find his motherfucking soozie”

And then imagine the next morning telling your neighbors 8-year-old daughter to “stop her incessant singing.”

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Imagine this conversation:

Him- “Hey honey, can you get my wallet from the car?”

Me- Sure thing- I’m heading out there right now”

I go outside and come back in

Him- “Did you get my wallet from the car?”

Me- “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with the car?”

 

Imagine being so proud of this picture you text it to all your friends (not mine):

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Imagine having tufts of hair yanked out frequently enough you are developing bald patches.

Imagine talking to the convenience store clerk for 20 minutes and considering that kind of a “date.”

Imagine not being sure you even want this new addition because your career and travel plans and social life and relationship were already so fun and complete.

And then imagine watching them “clap” and deciding they might be an experimental music prodigy.

animal-drumming

Imagine your vagina hiding under an unpenetrable thicket but that’s okay because if you trimmed it you’d finally see for yourself what a “gunt” looks like.

And then imagine forgetting all that.

This is parenthood.

 

 

 

Emelia Symington Fedy

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Emelia is a Social Acupuncturist. She needles in to the heart of the matter. Emelia works in theatre. She is a freelance radio producer, writer and storyteller. Her favorite quote at the moment is: "Live the light, spread the light, be the light." This is probably because she has a penchant for darkness.

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6 responses to This is Parenthood

  1. Emelia – I relate! When L was a baby I was worried that I would never ‘love’ him like other moms seemed to love theirs. I had some lingering PPD too, which hit hard when L was about 9 months, and was completely unexpected.
    Now he’s 4 and more like an actual but tiny human and I realized the other day how much of a change this is. He was a great baby but babies (and toddlers, sorry) are just not very human.
    Also, I used to have a glorious forest of indoor plants and now I have one cactus.
    We’re moving in the spring and one of my goals is to cultivate plants again. Thanks for talking about this. It’s hard to admit that the ‘parenting’ part of being a parent is often annoying, taxing, frustrating and just un-fun.
    Jesse

  2. …but it’s all worth it, right? Right? Please tell me it is…

    I never planned to have children of my own. I had an IUD for the past five years, but unexpectedly found myself pregnant in December. I’m in my late 30s, and have a supportive, loving, healthy, stable relationship. So, I chose to keep the pregnancy and the IUD was removed. I figure if my body wants to do this as I teeter on the edge of 40 and even with reliable stop-gaps in place, it’s meant to be.

    I am very excited and happy. But I am also terrified. Terrified of never getting enough sleep. Terrified of losing my identity. Terrified of my ability to handle it all without losing my shit. Terrified of becoming the target of so many others’ judgy bullshit thinly veiled as “advice.” Terrified of the pain of childbirth. Terrified I won’t bond with my baby. Terrified of never having time to myself ever again.

    So please, tell me it’s all worth it…

    And P.S. I am a huge fan of your blog. Very happy our mutual friend SP turned me on to it last year. ;-)

    • Emelia Symington Fedy February 5, 2014 at

      Straight up answer.
      I got a bit of post partum depression. It was really hard the first 8 months. I didn’t feel very bonded. I felt really resentful I couldn’t do what I wanted. I had a really dynamic and creative life that had never been altered before and that was fucking annoying. Also, I was tired, crabby with husband, the birth was fucking painful as hell ( I got an epidural 24 hours in and it saved my fucking ass so just get one sooner if you need to, it was a gift from God). I felt disconnected from my friends sho didn’t have kids and hated the annoying moms who were happy with kids. So that’s all the bad shit. Now, Arthur is 9 months old and a window has opened. He is the cutest little shit I’ve ever seen. I get tearly eyed when I look at him. His Dad and I LOVE watching TV at 7pm and falling asleep in a big pile by 8pm. My heart took a while to crack open. My mind took a while to adjust to its new reality. My soul was scared it would get forgotten about. So, you know what…don’t forget about it. You’ll have to put it aside for a bit but as soon as you have the ability and you want to, hire a babysitter on credit and get your work done. Do what you love to do- don’t put it aside for too long. That’s what is saving me. Writing this write now saves me, going to work in 5 min to write more saves me, and then I come home to my little sweet amazing perfect little monster and we dance till bedtime. It’s great. It takes a while to get great. Having an incredible partner to see you through the darkness is a fucking blessing. Give him BJ’s now. You won’t do it later. Love, em

      • Well holy shit, universe… I miscarried, at 15 weeks, mere hours after I posted the comment above. My partner and I are devastated… but this accidental pregnancy opened my heart, and showed me there is space in my life for a child, if I am lucky enough to have one.

        Thanks so much for your honest answer. Neither miscarriage nor becoming a mother are easy… but with time and love, it’ll get better. xo

        • Emelia Symington Fedy February 7, 2014 at

          I’m so sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I hope I wasn’t too harsh with my answer. Sending you healing prayers and sorrow. Em

          • No worries – you were not too harsh with your answer at all. It’s important for women to be honest with each other about this stuff… there is too much silence about all the not-so-pretty aspects of pregnancy, childbirth and parenting… the more honest and open we are, the less alone we feel. So, thank you for your straight-up answer and honesty. :)

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