It was in the ambulance on the way to the hospital that I vowed to not ever completely give up my life to the child I was about to deliver.
What had happened was that the nurse in the ambulance, with her happy round face, told me cheerfully that she had given up all her dreams the moment she gave birth to her first child.
Her second and third children sealed the idea that dreams belonged in the past. She did not seem regretful; she appeared happily resigned to her fate.
So she had not travelled the world the way she had envisioned when she was young. She had not continued that lovely, sexy, intimate relationship with her partner, because she said, “We became parents instead.” And instead of pursuing the career she had longed for, she had settled for her job as a nurse so she could combine it with being a mom.
She was upbeat when she told me her life’s story, probably trying in some way to prepare me for the impact that having my own child would have.
This nurse has no idea how often I think back to that moment in the ambulance. It was an important conversation in so many ways. It helped me to understand the enormous power that becoming a parent has over a person.
It definitely helped me to commit to myself — to the woman I was, the woman I wanted to become, and the parent I longed to be.
It also helped me to understand that I needed to keep my relationship with my partner alive and thriving… and that I needed to find a way to travel the world with my child… because that was what I wanted.
When I finally held my daughter, completely wiped out after days of delaying her birth, I understood what the power of love is for this little person you don’t even know yet. If you had told me that I had to walk from California to Southern Chili, the day after she was born, I would have done it, no questions asked.
Yes, sure, I did gain a better understanding of what the nurse in the ambulance meant — that nothing compares to the instantaneous and complete love we feel for our baby the moment we see them for the first time.
Within a few weeks though, I reflected on how that love alone doesn’t prepare you for parenting. Love gives you the passion and the will to be the best parent you can be.
But no matter how strong the desire to have a child, it has nothing to do with understanding “how to be a mom.” And understanding what you don’t want to repeat from your own childhood has nothing to do with knowing how to become a great parent.
So in one sentence, that moment in the ambulance, anchored me in the search for how to become a great parent, while empowering myself. Thank you, nurse!