What should you do when it’s one in the morning, and you can’t sleep?
You should write a long, slogging blog about everything that’s upsetting you and pissing you off. Then, perhaps, once it’s out of your head – you’ll finally be able to put it to rest, and sleep.
Shall we go piece by piece?
Baby names… it’s hard enough dealing with Brock, and our differences in taste and opinion. We agree on a lot of things, and we like things along the same lines, but there are still some huge gaps in our prospective choices for what we would like to name our child.
Lets say for simplicity’s sake that we have only two options – the name(s) that are going to be used, and the order that they are used in. My husband goes by his middle name. He is William Brock. His mother goes by her middle name. She is Mary Jane. Both of my brothers go by their middle names (Timothy Ryan and Christopher Adam), and both of his brothers go by their middle names (Edward Brady and Thomas Brandon).
Sure, it’s a trend. Sure, it seems like a cutesy family tradition. SURE, you can also argue that the order of those names sound better than the reverse. But does it really have to be something that we continue? Is there any reason for me to pick a name JUST because you want your child to go by his middle name too?
Lets move beyond that, and we’ll come back. Lets say we have it narrowed down to two names – one that I like a lot, one that he likes a lot. We have a whole slew of proverbial ‘middle’ names that we like, and we’re not really all that picky about which one we choose. Middle is in quotes because that, as above, is a point of contention. Neither of us want to “give up” our possible name by using it as the ‘middle’ name, as we both feel the name we like is good enough to save for a future child. However, whenever I bring up our name choices, and how we’re going to decide… I always concede that we could choose either, while he always insists that his name is the only option. He never says “No” to the name that I like, it just doesn’t appear to be on the table in the first place.
Back to the whole problem here. Brock keeps arguing that we don’t have to name our child with the middle name as HIS name just because his family has – only that we should do it if it sounds better. He also keeps steering us (and his parents, mind you) towards the name that he likes more.
At the end of the day, I feel like it’s really unfair that I seem to have little to no input here. Since he chose to get his parents involved, they (of course) take his side on every argument. I am outnumbered, out-voiced, and out-opinionated. I will not get to choose the name of my baby, I will not get to veto the idea of him always having to correct people and point out that he goes by his middle name… and while we’re at it, why don’t I just give in on the rest of the bull shit too?
(This is going to be a long one, guys. I don’t expect you to tough it out to the end.)
What’s next? Maternity portraits.
I found an incredible photographer that I’m very interested in having take some maternity portraits for me. She is very reasonably priced, and offers a “watch me grow” package that includes before birth, three month, six month and one year sessions of the baby.
Yeah, we’re in big-time debt. Yeah, I just got a bill for all of the hospital expenses, and we’re going to remain in debt for a while.
But I will only be pregnant with this child ONE time… and only have the opportunity to get portraits done now. Brock argues that I’m my own incredible photographer, and we don’t need to pay someone else to take pictures of our kid. He argues that I could have a friend take a picture or two of my belly, and that will be good enough. He argues that I always get everything that I want, and it’s not fair for me to keep spending money on myself.
Point, point, and point. I just… can’t seem to imagine myself regretting spending the money to have professional pictures taken of me and my baby – and Brock too. I really cant picture myself wishing I had spent that money on something else. I can, however, picture quite clearly the regret I would feel looking back and wishing I had taken the time to get some pictures done. It seems like a no-brainer to me.
Here we go. Last, but certainly not least.
I don’t want to go back to work full time after the baby is born. I have 6 weeks of maternity leave. Six entire weeks. Excuse the expletive, please, but are you fucking kidding me? I can stay home with my son until his a whole MONTH and a HALF old before I have to leave him for 40 hours per week at daycare? Oh, and daycare costs 200 dollars per WEEK?
Does this seem incredibly wrong to anyone else? What fraking genius came up with this system?
Brock doesn’t want to have to worry about money, so he doesn’t want me to give up my job. Brock’s mom put her kids in daycare, so she doesn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t.
I’m sorry again, but fuck no. Not in this life, and not any other life. I don’t care how much it upsets them, or pisses them off, or makes them think I don’t care how they feel about it. If I were a school teacher, and my only option was to work 8-5, M-F… then sure, it’s reasonable to put a kid in daycare. Perhaps if I had a year or two to be a mom and raise my kid, I wouldn’t mind so much.
But you are asking me to put my six week old child in the care of another person or persons for more than 2/3rds of my waking hours. You are asking me to see him only in the short hours before bed, and when I wake in the middle of the night to feed him. You are asking me to let someone else raise my son, when it should be me.
I would honestly rather just put him up for adoption than hand him over for five days at a time, and pay someone else eight hundred dollars a month. It would be far less painful, and I wouldn’t have to worry about that whole pesky ‘attachment and love’ crap.
I have options. I can work on the weekend, and be home with him during the week. I can work third shift, and stay up with him during the day. I can take a part time or PRN job and still make the money that I make now. I am NOT going to put him in daycare and keep the job I have just because it makes them less nervous. There really are some parts of this that I will not concede on, and this is one of them.
If it comes right down to it, I will just pack our things and move back home with my parents, where my choices and ideas are actually supported, where I don’t feel like an idiot for wanting to be with my son.
I bet you didn’t know just a handful of people could take away the excitement and joy in having a child, instead turning into fear, loathing and dread of nearly everything involved.
I guess I’m done now.