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I know, I know, I make it sound like a career choice... “Are you meant to be a archaeologist or a rock star?” But then why do we not give enough importance to someone who is planning to have a baby as compared to someone who is planning to make a career choice? Of course, I’m not comparing the two. But anyone who wishes only good things for children (irrespective of who they belong to :/) will agree that bringing up a child is a task that requires more finesse, fitness, intelligence, patience, and unconditional love than what a surgeon, teacher, or an astronaut would ever need. In fact, I’m sure, unconditional love and patience are virtues not mandatory for most professions that I’m aware of.
I’m not ranting just because I’m fried out of my wits on a Wednesday afternoon. I’m fried, alright. But this question has a way deeper resonance. I remember speaking to my friend an hour after I had my baby. I was crying. They weren’t just tears of joy. I was petrified. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it. Yes. You read that right. It took me all of nine months to even get started about wondering if this was the right move. The husband looked overjoyed when I muttered I was pregnant. The parents, I thought, would telecommunicate their way through the phone in to my bedroom, so happy they were. May be I thought it was a good thing. I was naive. After all, people can’t be so mean to actually mislead me into thinking that it was a good thing that I was actually entering a zone, which has no exit. Once a parent, forever a parent. For freaking ever a mom. Just how eye-poppingly scary does it sound?
Why are there no preparatory classes, coaching centres, or a downright University dedicated for people who feel they are ready to be parents? There should be a diploma course (at the least) with modules like ‘LLE (Losing Sleep for Eternity), Martial Arts (for when the kid is still sharing your bed), Math for the Parents (to teach the little one – SHUDDER!), Mummy/Daddy Why? (for all those questions that you wonder why you never thought about), Mind Your Language (in front of the sponge of a child that you will have), OMG so many many things I should have known. I’m still reeling from the daily dose of forget-to-inhale moments that come my way courtesy my 6 year old.
Had I applied for the diploma, I would have failed so miserably, they wouldn’t even let me get a cactus at home, lest I ‘nurture’ it with too much water.