A little over four months ago, I met someone who completely turned my world upside down. This someone came into the world at 9.5 pounds, screaming and hollering, and showering us with his affection (literally peeing everywhere). This “someone” is my son, McSwaine (Mac) Kershner. After years of dreaming and praying, we finally met our darling little boy and my world hasn’t been the same ever since.
You see, everyone told me about the sleepless nights, the golden showers at 3am while changing a diaper and the “fourth trimester” bowl of pudding that was once my bikini-ready stomach (who am I kidding, I was never really bikini ready but I would sure as heck rock one). What no one told me about was the punch-drunk love that you feel for this screaming, hollering, pooping little hot mess. I had some rowdy days in my past but this kind of high – the high that you feel when you look out at the world from your child’s eyes, the kind of high that you feel when you snuggle up with that little butterball for an afternoon nap, the kind of high when you root in those neck-rolls and soak in that sweet baby smell – that high surpasses any street drug my friends, I am talking about the good stuff.
I was naïve to think that having a baby wouldn’t change me. It did. It totally did. I was particularly naïve to think that my husband and I would just bounce back into our social life (even though it was pretty mediocre to begin with anyway). Unfortunately bar stools don’t securely hold a car seat (I have tried) and people seem to frown upon having a baby in bar. I also find myself more cautious than ever before, always looking out for things that could potentially be a danger to Mac. My husband has always been this way, he was deployed overseas twice as a Marine and is now a State Trooper so his nature is to be overly protective...living by the mantra “better to be judged by 12 than carried by 6” (I basically married the Marlboro Man). I, on the other hand, always assumed people were good and that the world was made of fairy dust and sprinkles. But after having Mac, I won’t even pump gas with him in the car…too many crazies lurking around that might steal my baby (I have obviously watched too many Lifetime movies). I also find myself more selfish of my time; moments with Mac are limited so I have learned to say “no” to things that aren’t making positive contributions in our lives. I have also somehow managed to exponentially increase my tolerance for body excretions and other fluids that spontaneously project from a baby’s body (where does it all come from anyway!?). I have learned to chill out and not take life too seriously; I mean how can I be serious when I am not exactly confident if I remembered to put on deodorant? I have also learned to love myself the way that Mac loves me. The “fourth trimester” is real, it is this cruel joke that the universe plays on you. For nine months, I was a human tape worm eating whatever I wanted because “I was growing a baby” and then one day I have the baby and I am confused when I am holding the 9.5 pound baby but I am still carrying 60 pounds of “pregnancy weight,” I mean shouldn’t the doctors remove the nice padded muffin-top that I made
solely for the baby?!? So here I am, wearing every kind of Spanx invented but I am learning to love my body the way that my child does – without flaws or flubs - just pure love and joy. To be honest, I think Mac just views me as one big udder, so that is not helping my self-image but I am learning to love my body just the way it is (this realization is a tough one). Having a baby also changed the way I viewed other people because I am reminded those those people were once children who just needed love, attention and someone to believe in them. Just think how different our world would be if every child had someone to love them, provide for them and believe in them (cue Michael Jackson’s “We are the World”).
Having a baby is one hell of a roller coaster ride that no advice or baby book could have prepared me to experience. I still have no idea what I am doing and there are days that I have cheese balls and wine for dinner and forget to wash my hair (for four days straight). But then there are moments where I hear my sweet boy giggle or look up at me with a wide-eyed grin that make all the sleepless nights and delirious days worth it.
It is the scariest ride of my life but I keep going back for more with my hands held high in the air and my feet off the ground praying that it never ends.
by
Sarah Kershner, It's Your Game Project Coordinator,
SC Campaign to Prevent Teen Pregnancy