Parenting

I didn’t want an episiotomy. And I told my doctor so on page three of my seven page birth plan.

It is understood that to effectively and officially attachment parent your child, you need to hit all the markers, check all the boxes, and do it without dissolving into a crying mess on the floor when your baby won’t stop crying and you only slept for two hours and you have to go to the supermarket because you’re out of coffee, but you shouldn’t even be DRINKING coffee and you’re the worst mother in the world.

He told me there was nothing we could have done. He told me it happens sometimes. But it had never happened to me, so none of that mattered.

I’m not saying there is no joy to motherhood. I go through periods where I do feel like I’m at my parenting best. There are times when I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for the amazing life and children I’ve been given. It can be so, so good. But what I’m saying is, it doesn’t always have to feel like that.

Properly cleaning it and putting on a condom just didn’t seem like a big deal. And as for the supposed unsightliness of an uncircumcised penis? Well, just too bad.

When the time came, I knew. I felt it in my gut, and in my body, each time my muscles tensed up at her request to nurse.

As a freelancer who works from home, I get the best of both worlds as a parent.

I got married young and had my first child young.