it’s not that i’m surprised… when i made the decision to have a baby, i knew it came with responsibility. of course, i was considering the “mom” part of it all, changing diapers constantly and 2 am feedings. putting someone else’s primal needs before your own superficial ones. all that good stuff. but i think i gave myself a little too much credit when it comes to the “working mom” part of it all. sure, i made it through the first trimester without getting fired but now i have to make it through the next 18 years? yikes…!
also, i really despise making decisions for another person besides myself. i can rationalize just about anything if it’s what i really want or feel that i really need. and i can also [mostly] deal with the consequences of my actions. but there’s so much weight on me right now, physically (!) and mentally, to “do the right thing” for henri‘s sake. it’s almost as though i deliberately created a conscience for myself, a reason to be rational, so i could stick with this whole stable, practical thing that seems to keep me sane.
of course, i still have options. i have more options than a lot of other moms-to-be, working or non. and i don’t mean to discount that. i guess i just want to document this as the first time i’m taking the option that works best for both of us, instead of just doing what i want–not because i want to be a great mom or because i’m at all interested in being the self-sacrificial type; but because i made a decision to bring somebody else into the world, which (for me) implies that the world i’m bringing him into will be as good as i can make it for as long as i have control over it.