8 thoughts on “The scariest thing about having children”
You are becoming a Russian existentialist — with a crazy landlady and everything. I was afraid that might happen. You might need to consider relocating to some more optimistic country, Italy or a Greek island perhaps.
Yup.
Amen to that. When the little ones are sick or hurt, it’s especially scary–not only because they are more fragile, but because they can’t tell you what’s wrong.
My son, now 8 years old, has been to the emergency room three times–two of those visits were for conditions that might have ended in his death 100 years ago (an undiagnosed nut allergy and a nasty case of bronchitis, respectively). I don’t have any words of wisdom about it–I felt so helpless. I’m just grateful these things are treatable now.
Yes, very scary.
Maybe it’s because I’m still a bit younger, but the idea of having children scares the hell out of me not because of the responsibility of the thing itself, but because of all the terrible things and people in this world I know can hurt them. It seems insurmountably daunting, and takes a small amount of good potent courage for anyone with half a brain cell – despite your assurances from your earlier article about you not being William Wallace, fine, but you’re like, a little William Wallace, not for having a baby in Russia, but for having a baby at all.
As a little girl I was frequently asked ‘how many children do you want to have’ (just something little girls ask each other?) and I would always answer that I will never have just one child, I’ll have three in case something happened to one of them (strange logic, but it did make sense to me back then). I was a born worrier. I’d worry all the time about something bad happening to somebody I love.
When my little brother was a baby I worried constantly that he’ll suffocate or poke his fingers into an electric socket … My brother is in this age now that he loves doing daring and risky things as teenage boys do… I can’t protect him anymore, I scream at him when he dives in the lake but it only causes him to resent me.
I can’t say anything witty here. For our psychological health it’s better to worry only about things we have control over, and believe that everything else will be all right.
I was looking for the essay that might go with this tag. I guess it’s not really required. Those 5 words say it all. One word less than Hemingway’s “baby shoes” image.
And yes, you’re right.
I just met a lady who is autistic, like my son. Except her parents abandoned her to the same appalling fostercare system that, for no good reason, chased me all over hellgone and back, trying to force the same ‘treatment’ on my son. Like so many others I’ve met since our gvt. left me homeless, she confirmed the horrors my son would have faced in fostercare, had I not fought like I did. She was repeatedly beaten, raped and sodomized with a broom, run over. She has to wear diapers. She can barely communicate. I have a good deal of experience with neuroatypical people, so I listen well, and I sometimes have trouble grasping what she’s trying to say.
I would go through it all again, and more to protect my boy from that.
Beyond the rhetoric, there was a reason the Americans were afraid of the Russians for so long. Because your resolve is second to none. If it comes down to it, Nat, you and your hubby will do whatever it takes to protect your boy, just like your parents did what had to be done to protect you.
Children are the rocks on which life either breaks us, or fashions us for better things. When you stand eye to eye with him in 15 to 20 years, and see the fine man and good friend he’ll be, you’ll know in your bones, like I do, what really matters in this life.
Take care, and blessed be.
Oh, Hemingway did it a tad better! I also like how bullshit-free the Bible is on the subject.
Natalia A. 
You are becoming a Russian existentialist — with a crazy landlady and everything. I was afraid that might happen. You might need to consider relocating to some more optimistic country, Italy or a Greek island perhaps.
Yup.
Amen to that. When the little ones are sick or hurt, it’s especially scary–not only because they are more fragile, but because they can’t tell you what’s wrong.
My son, now 8 years old, has been to the emergency room three times–two of those visits were for conditions that might have ended in his death 100 years ago (an undiagnosed nut allergy and a nasty case of bronchitis, respectively). I don’t have any words of wisdom about it–I felt so helpless. I’m just grateful these things are treatable now.
Yes, very scary.
Maybe it’s because I’m still a bit younger, but the idea of having children scares the hell out of me not because of the responsibility of the thing itself, but because of all the terrible things and people in this world I know can hurt them. It seems insurmountably daunting, and takes a small amount of good potent courage for anyone with half a brain cell – despite your assurances from your earlier article about you not being William Wallace, fine, but you’re like, a little William Wallace, not for having a baby in Russia, but for having a baby at all.
As a little girl I was frequently asked ‘how many children do you want to have’ (just something little girls ask each other?) and I would always answer that I will never have just one child, I’ll have three in case something happened to one of them (strange logic, but it did make sense to me back then). I was a born worrier. I’d worry all the time about something bad happening to somebody I love.
When my little brother was a baby I worried constantly that he’ll suffocate or poke his fingers into an electric socket … My brother is in this age now that he loves doing daring and risky things as teenage boys do… I can’t protect him anymore, I scream at him when he dives in the lake but it only causes him to resent me.
I can’t say anything witty here. For our psychological health it’s better to worry only about things we have control over, and believe that everything else will be all right.
I was looking for the essay that might go with this tag. I guess it’s not really required. Those 5 words say it all. One word less than Hemingway’s “baby shoes” image.
And yes, you’re right.
I just met a lady who is autistic, like my son. Except her parents abandoned her to the same appalling fostercare system that, for no good reason, chased me all over hellgone and back, trying to force the same ‘treatment’ on my son. Like so many others I’ve met since our gvt. left me homeless, she confirmed the horrors my son would have faced in fostercare, had I not fought like I did. She was repeatedly beaten, raped and sodomized with a broom, run over. She has to wear diapers. She can barely communicate. I have a good deal of experience with neuroatypical people, so I listen well, and I sometimes have trouble grasping what she’s trying to say.
I would go through it all again, and more to protect my boy from that.
Beyond the rhetoric, there was a reason the Americans were afraid of the Russians for so long. Because your resolve is second to none. If it comes down to it, Nat, you and your hubby will do whatever it takes to protect your boy, just like your parents did what had to be done to protect you.
Children are the rocks on which life either breaks us, or fashions us for better things. When you stand eye to eye with him in 15 to 20 years, and see the fine man and good friend he’ll be, you’ll know in your bones, like I do, what really matters in this life.
Take care, and blessed be.
Oh, Hemingway did it a tad better! I also like how bullshit-free the Bible is on the subject.
And thank you for the comments.