What was I thinking?

Throughout my life I have made more than my share of questionable decisions.

And I really think becoming a parent was one of them.

Before you jump me, I'm not saying I regret my child. That's not it at all. If you read further, you'll understand.

Yesterday, C was playing with my full length mirror. I was in the bathroom putting makeup on and I heard the crash. I knew instantly what happened and all I could picture was my child in a "Carrie"-like scene with blood all over him and shattered glass everywhere. 

Thankfully there was no blood. But there was a lot of glass. A lot. 

And not for the first time, I thought, "Why did I do this?" 

I grabbed him out of his walker and checked him for blood. I didn't see him bleeding and I didn't see any glass protruding from his body, so I tried to calm him (and me) down. But the whole time, I thought, "Why did I do this? Why did I have a baby? I can't deal with this."

He didn't even get hurt!

When he fell off the couch a couple months ago and scared both my husband and I, I had the same thought. 

When I first began breastfeeding, I had the same thought.

Breastfeeding was demanding. I didn't get to sleep as much as I could have if we used formula (so I thought). If we used formula, he might stay full longer. If we used formula, he might sleep all night. What was I thinking trying to breastfeed?

To this day, those things above are all true. But as I've mentioned before, breastfeeding went beyond just how I chose to give my child nutrition. I needed it too. I needed the closeness.

I saw this quote on Pinterest (I think) that said something like, The first six weeks, you'll envy those who chose formula, but after six months, you'll be thankful you breastfeed.

That was totally paraphrased, but it basically just meant that if you keep on breastfeeding, if you keep trying, then it's worth it in the end.

Well that's true. 

So that makes me wonder if when I die, when I take my last breath, I'll think, "This was all worth it."

I say when I die, because I don't think I'll ever not worry about C. I don't think I'll ever not think, "Why did I do this to myself?" I'll never stop wondering what he's doing or why he's doing it. I just hope that no matter how old he gets, he'll still give me those sweet kisses and the warmest hug I've ever gotten in my life. I just hope that he'll still look at me with bright eyes full of love. I hope that he'll still smile whenever he sees me walk into a room. I hope that he will still love me just as much as he does in this very moment in time. 

And in that second, right before I close my eyes for good, I'll know why I did it.