I have three amazing beautiful little kids aged 13, 10, and 6. Often times when I’m out alone with the kids or with my husband most people passing by make comments like “phew I bet you’re busy”, or “i bet your hands are full”. These people aren’t wrong, not only are my hands full, but my mind is full, my body is full, my schedule is full, basically you name it, and it’s full.
I dedicated the last 14 years (including pregnancy) of my life to child raising, and 8 years to breastfeeding. Most people don’t even attend college for that amount of time. Now being pregnant and breastfeeding are magical parts of my life that I chose to take part in, but choosing them didn’t make them easy. Parenting has been tears, fears and everything in between and that isn’t even starting to talk about the personal physical aspects involved.
Creating life is hard on a body, maintaining life is hard on a body and a body knows better than anyone else when it’s had enough. My physical therapist told me after the birth of my third that she strongly recommended I no longer have any babies. She said the fascia that held my abdomen muscles together was shot and couldn’t handle anymore stretching and holding, but really I knew that my mind was shot too.
By the time I had my third I was so tired, so desperate for everything to stop needing me and my attention. My parenting got worse, the loving kind patient mother I worked and strove so hard to be was dissolving right through my fingers every time one of my littles would drop something suddenly, or upset the baby that had just fallen asleep. I wasn’t the only one suffering, the kids were too. The guilt I felt for having a third baby was heavy on my shoulders constantly. I had no idea how much more difficult three kids would be than two. I was drowning in guilt and responsibilities and neither were showing signs of letting up.
I realized that the more kids I had the worse of a mother I became. I had less time for myself and by less, I mean a 5 minute shower every three to four days was a luxury. There was always an argument to validate, always a sandwhich to make, always clothes to wash. This all being said that I had an amazing man who worked all day came home and took over anything that I needed. He cooked, he cleaned, he diapered, literally everything, and it was all still too much.
About a year after my third was born my husband and I looked at eachother and said we can’t ever do this again. I told him that I can’t endure the never ending sickness I felt from pregnancy, I can’t endure getting any worse than I am as a mother, I can’t loose what it feels like to be a human again, to be an individual. In all the ways motherhood is amazing it can also feel like imprisonment. I looked at my husband and I told him if I ever get pregnant again I’m having an abortion. I followed it with saying that I didn’t want to have to make that decision, but it would be the one I made and he fully supported me. He had walked alongside me every pregnancy knowing what it took from me mentally, physically and emotionally and he came home to a tired wife barely getting by knowing she couldn’t endure anymore. He decided to get a vasectomy because it poses less risk than a tubal ligation and because I’d already risked my body in a multitude of ways with every pregnancy.
It took me having three kids of my own to know the scary edge of no longer holding it together. It took me having three kids to know that having more would no longer add to my well-being or my family but instead start to take it all away from me. I believe every woman knows at what point her mind and body have had enough whether that’s 0 children or 6, and every woman should have the freedom to chose motherhood not be imprisoned by it.
Knowing that all my pregnancies were intentional and wanted and still at times felt like I had limited freedoms, I can’t even begin to imagine the hell that is gestating an unwanted pregnancy for any amount of time. Contraception failures happen, rape happens, hell, just accidents happen, and instead of turning my back on women and limiting their options, I chose to trust women. I chose to trust women who know when they’ve had enough, I trust they know better than anyone else their own limits mentally, physically and emotionally and I chose to fight for women’s access to abortion.