These past several days have been filled with friends and family, talks of hope for the future, and babies, babies, babies. My hormones, quite expectedly, are flying off the chain by responding with thoughts such as, “I want nine babies! NOW.” You know, just your everyday, sane notion.
Amidst the screams of my ovaries, the question that keeps coming to my mind is, how am I going to parent? How are my husband and I going to parent? I suppose it’s difficult to know until you’re in the midst, but I can’t help but consider what type of momma I’ll be someday.
My own folks gave me wonderful examples of parenting, but we are different people from different generations. Although I’ll certainly pass along good things that my mom and dad taught me, I’ll raise my kids differently from how my siblings and I were raised. It’s equally troubling and exciting to consider the extent of the impression you’ll have on these forthcoming tiny humans.
At this point, the best I can do to plan for parenting is to plan to love. It’s the only thing I can plan for, because I don’t have control over much else. A quote from Rumi says, “This is love: to fly towards a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First, to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet.” Because despite the unknown before me, love pushes me to continue to know myself better, and we are at our best as parents and as spouses when we know ourselves. Love says do, even when you question whether or not you can.
Yes, I’ll certainly do things that are not out of love - it happens more than I'd like - but if I plan to love, and love is where I’m always trying to come from, I'm confident that I can be good, no, freakin' AWESOME parent. Being a momma is not happening in the near future, but I'll continue to love and make it more and more of a habit for the rest of my life.