Recently I met a young woman at a local community activity. We were playing a get-to-know you activity and this young woman (17) proudly announced, "My name is Anne, I am a junior in high school, I enjoy listening to music, and I'm pregnant! I'm so excited, we just got the bassinet!"
Everyone clapped and showed their support and enthusiasm. Anne is living with her mother and other siblings, as most children who are in high school do. She got pregnant on a one night stand and had very vocally declared that she didn't want anything to do with the father. But she was so excited to be pregnant and having her first baby.
Truth be told, most of us feel uncomfortable about the fact that this teen mom is so oblivious to what is about to happen, and sad for the child she carries, who will never know a father. But we want to be helpful. So we smile, and clap, and will probably attend her baby shower.
At age 35, I hold my first child in my lap who is 9 months old. Anne has been showing a lot of interest in my baby recently. Every time she holds him, I think about how I was twice her age before I had my first and only child, and how long I waited for him and how hard it was to get him here. I think about how many years I waited for marriage and was so grateful when I finally met and married my husband at age 32. After a year of trying and infertility treatments, we finally got pregnant, and how this little boy of ours is the apple of our eye. We both have waited so long to have children and are so grateful to have him here. I cannot imagine bringing him into the world without a father. He is cherished. He knows he is loved.
Anne and her mother planned a baby shower and are fully expecting the same kind of support and enthusiasm any other pregnancy would garner. And I care about them so I show up and bring a gift. But I'm sad because her pregnancy is not the same as any other. And this is not something to celebrate. I am sad for the life that she is creating for this new child, where by default he will be deprived of knowing a father. He will always wonder about the second half of his genetic makeup, if he looks like someone else, if he has the same habits and characteristics of the man who created him. She is willfully (ignorantly?) bringing a life into the world that will never have a chance to know his heritage or extended family. I think about how my life would be different if I didn't know my grandparents or my family history or immigrants from Holland and Syria. Her child will never benefit from the stability of married parents. He will join the 41% of other children in the United States that are born to unwed parents, including the myriad of research that shows he will be much less likely to finish highschool, live in poverty, be involved in illegal activities, and repeat the pattern of fathering out-of-wedlock children that will never know or be raised by him.
And so I attend the celebration but I am mourning. I go to the baby shower anyway, and I bring a little baby blanket but wish I could bring marriage and father wrapped in a little box.
We obsess about what is best for babies. There's whole mommy wars about breastfeeding vs. formula, how a baby should sleep, what toys to play with. I'll tell you what's even more important to a baby than breastmilk: a father.
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