Before entering the realm of parenthood, I was repeatedly told that the love I would feel for my children would be unparalleled. Friends, family, and even strangers in the grocery store would exclaim, “Holding your baby is the most incredible experience!” Imagine my surprise when, upon first holding my daughter, I was overwhelmed not by love, but by anxiety. Would I drop her? Am I equipped to raise her? Had we chosen the right name? What was I thinking, believing I could nurture a human being?
This fear only compounded my worries. Was my apprehension a sign of bad motherhood? Where was this promised love? Was something fundamentally wrong with me? The love didn’t surface until two weeks later during one sleepless night, as my daughter screamed at two in the morning. After exhausting every method to soothe her, I found myself in tears. “Please,” I pleaded, “I’m doing my best, just stop crying.” And then, miraculously, she did. In that absurd moment, I realized that she didn’t have all the answers either, and my fear began to subside.
Reflecting on that experience, a well-intentioned relative commented on how this stage with my baby and three-year-old was a “golden period.” “You’ll miss it when it’s gone,” she advised. “It was the happiest time of my life.” While my days are filled with significance, challenges, and yes, plenty of messes, I hesitate to label this as the happiest period. Acknowledging my struggles makes me question my competence as a parent. If I’m not thrilled about cleaning up after a toddler, does that mean I’m failing?
The abundance of parenting literature and online resources often implies that any issue can be resolved, and if you’re not experiencing joy, it’s somehow your fault. I wish the term “happy” could be banished from parenting discussions. The notion that perfect bliss is the ultimate goal of child-rearing is unrealistic. Life is chaotic, difficult, and sometimes, situations don’t improve. Our culture of self-help suggests that every problem can be solved, yet what happens when a child doesn’t grasp that they shouldn’t continue to have accidents on the floor, even if a potty-training manual says otherwise?
No parent who has ever found themselves sobbing on the floor amid a crying chorus is broken. No mother who experiences sheer panic while gazing at her child needs to be fixed. No mom wishing to escape the sticky, unpleasant reality of living room floors is failing. Instead of parenting guides that focus solely on improvement, I long for resources that teach acceptance of our circumstances, embracing the chaos, joy, frustration, anxiety, and fear that accompany this journey.
Because I’m done with the concept of happy.
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Summary
The author reflects on the misconceptions surrounding parental love and happiness. Initially overwhelmed by fear and anxiety upon becoming a parent, she realizes the unrealistic expectations placed on parents regarding happiness. Instead of striving for constant joy, she advocates for acceptance of the diverse range of emotions that accompany parenthood, emphasizing that struggling does not equate to failure.
Keyphrase: parental happiness misconceptions
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