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We all know that girl who wanted to have a baby to love like they never were. To give them what they never had. To have someone that loved them unconditionally. Their mini-me. Their best friend.

Having a baby is a huge responsibility and should be a decision made responsibly between two consenting adults. Yes, I said adults. No, I’m not judging because things happen and I get that, but if I’m being frank, this generation is well informed when it comes to prevention. My generation was well informed! I knew exactly what to do to get pregnant the same way I knew what to do NOT to get pregnant. Having a baby is the responsibility of the two individuals who create the child. Having a baby is NOT a game! In fact, it’s a game changer.

I had my first child at 20. I’ve talked about this before, but I, Me and only me made the selfish decision to get pregnant with my first child. Selfish because I was extremely clear that her 19 year old father was not ready to be a parent.

Growing up I never wanted children. I wanted to attend UC Berkeley, be carefree with my only responsibility being me and me only. The thought of having children didn’t exist in my mind, plus I knew that I did NOT want to bring a child into this world with all of the emotional trauma and baggage I was carrying. Never a wise decision to allow a child to marinate in a toxic womb. After my major surgery at 19, I was faced with the possibility of never being able to conceive. It was at that very moment the game changed.

You know how they say “you never want something until you can’t have it”. Now my reality looked different. You would think that not being able to conceive to someone who never wanted children would be a “blessing in disguise”, but that was not the case. Making the decision myself to not have children looked very different from that decision being made for me, something out of my control. I was 19. What do you really know at 19? Let me speak for myself, I didn’t know shit at 19. I didn’t have a 10 year plan. Hell, I didn’t have a 5 year plan.

By age 19 I had already attempted suicide twice. I was a depressed mess. I was broken. I was damaged. I had no business bringing a child into my world in that season of my life, but I did. Too often I’ve seen women of all ages bringing children into this world as a means to fulfill their lifelong dreams. To fix their brokenness. To try and make right all of the things of their past. Then the child becomes an unhealthy obsession, a project of sorts. So busy trying to make right in them the things wrong in you that you forget to heal yourself. One of the biggest forms of projection I’ve ever seen.

How many times have you heard, “I’m going to give my child all the things I didn’t have”. “My child is not going to grow up like I did”. “My child is going to have the best of everything”. None of that is a possibility if you aren’t able to disrupt the pattern of the things that broke you. None of that is a possibility if you are still living with the burden of your own childhood trauma. Broken parents often produce broken children. Why? Because we don’t take the time to do the healing work before we become parents. We choose to heal as we go.

“Having a baby healed me” Wrong. Having a child while broken created a temporary distraction from the issues buried within. The trauma and brokenness will show up, trust me. It may be something said that’s a trigger or a particular environment. Unaddressed trauma has a way of reminding you that it still exist.

Yes, having my first child matured me. It also taught me a lot about myself, but I needed to address the wounds of my past before I became a parent. Before making the huge decision of becoming a parent. Take the time to heal your own wounds first.

Until next time…🦋

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