I've become one of Them

I had an epiphany when I was 27-years-old and working as a TV reporter and living in Reno. As I drove to work, I listened as some author on NPR whose name I can't remember talk about the decision to have children. The writer said she feared many women (and men) end up having children because they reached a point in their lives where they hadn't really accomplished anything they'd set out to. Their lives had no purpose. So, they create a new human being just to give their lives meaning.

I vowed to myself that I would never become one of those people. Someone who got pregnant because nothing else was working out in her life. And frankly, I couldn't imagine any other reason to have a kid. I had spent my high school weekends and college mornings babysitting for other people's kids. It was fun for a while, but ultimately exhausting. I wanted to be someone in my own right, instead of staking my claim to fame on being someone else's mother.

But then Skyler came along. My niece was born in 2004, about six weeks after I met the man who would one day become my husband. The overwhelming, instant love I felt for her as a wiggly, colicky infant has grown exponentially as she's developed into a witty, brave, strong, and compassionate four-year-old. I am never as happy as I am when I'm with her. Those unexpected feelings, along with marriage to a man I knew would make an outstanding father, turned my world upside down. I wanted to become a mother.