The freight train and the nanny

My brother just had a baby a week ago, and he is finding he has too much time on his hands. He finished the full audio of Harry Potter. He said to me yesterday on the phone:

“I’m spending most of my time either gazing at the baby or gazing at my wife so she sleeps. Otherwise, she won’t go to sleep. I’m well slept, I’m well fed, and I’ve found myself going to Kmart to return plates, feeling a growing urge to be productive beyond gazing.”

There are many ways to have children. If you ask me, I don’t think there is one way that is better than the other. There is only what life has given you.

My brother is in his mid-forties. He spent the last fifteen years working seventeen hours a day. Now, primed and ready for his family, he was in the financial position to hire a live-in moon lady (a nanny who specialises in postpartum care) and take time off from his inbox, his meetings, and the running of his companies.

The newborn has been, so far, an exercise in love and hours of gazing.

He said to me, “Jeez, how do people do this without a nanny? How would you even know what to do?”

I laughed. Yeah, how are we expected to know what to do? I never got a manual.

My experience was so far removed. Our first baby came at me like a freight train at the age of twenty-four. I was romantically deluded by the idea that they wouldn’t cost much money, and I’d be able to jump in my van and travel around Australia. Unaware that my tits would be sucked on so often they’d drop to my waist, that sitting down to eat a proper meal would land on the Z list, that sleep would become a foreign language. No one told me that ten years would pass before I caught up.

No one told me. I didn’t really have any friends with children. We were the pioneers among our friend group. We didn’t have secure jobs or careers; damn, we didn’t even have an education. We were living off government parenting payments, and stubbornly thought it was up to us to do everything ourselves. I was so young, still figuring out who I was, and I was scared to let her go. The thought of placing her in someone else’s arms made my body close around her.

Was that a better experience than my brother’s? Because I did it the hard way? Because I was younger, my body stronger?

Who knows. I only have my experience, but I believe they all have their benefits.

The current trend in the West is to have babies later. I often get asked, “What do you think is better? Aren’t you happy you had them young?”

Honestly, I don’t think there’s a better or worse way. There is a part of me now that would love to experience raising children with help and finances to support the dream — but that’s this version of me. I’m not sure the twenty-four-year-old wanted that. I love that I have a friendship with my children where we can go out together and hang out like mates. And it could also have been nice to enjoy a baby when I wasn’t busy trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, or how to pay for nappies.

Having children has been a glorious ride. And it isn’t for everyone. Nothing is for everyone.

Cherish your experience for what it is. Focus on what you have. Stay abundant to receive what you desire.

Loving you, Tahl