On becoming a parent in quarantine
“Steop parent” was originally a name reserved for those that took in orphans. Death being the main reason for needing a parent other than your biological parents in the Middle Ages.
I come from a long line of stepparents, stepfathers, specifically. Divorce being the main reason. Within the last two years, I’ve found myself in the same lineage of the stepgrandfathers and fathers in my family. Floundering, messing up, drowning mostly. Learning to swim by being thrown in the deep end, as they say.
Becoming a parent was accidental on my part. I never chose to have kids. But I did fall in love with someone who already had made that choice, very consciously. So it became an eventual choice for me, as well. Though, I have to say, quite reluctantly at first. Ironically, it’s been within this past year - this year of quarantine and home-schooling and anxiety and stress - that I’ve embraced parenthood. Even enjoy it a bit…a bit.
Becoming a parent is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life. I’ve heard other parents say this, as though it’s a badge of honor. As though they were made for this. I wasn’t made for this.
Stepparenting is a little like inviting an alien into your life, into the life of your romantic relationship. I’m sure for my daughter, it was like having a strange adult around, maybe a grown alien, who seemed unusually grumpy, but was also the first person in her conscious life to want and demand her Mommy’s attention.
She had 6 years of knowing and identifying her family. She had 6 years of rules, spoken and unspoken. She had 6 years of Mommy. She had 6 years of a dynamic that put her in the center. Now her Mommy had another center.
What we did, as a family, was the equivalent of getting on a rollercoaster blindfolded, never sure what hill we will climb, how long the fall will be, and what turns lie ahead. This can be said of every new family, of course. But when a strange adult appears in your life, seemingly out of nowhere, you can wish for that adult to disappear as quickly as they appeared. Or at least, keep them at a distance. Treat them like a sister instead of a parent. These are not choices that a 6 year old can make. And yet kids react in ways that are as confusing to them as it is to the people around them.
We certainly weren’t prepared for a year of quarantine while trying to create and nurture our new family. It was so hard to be stuck together 24/7 in the house, home-schooling and working. And yet, there were moments of clarity and growth that I’m not sure would have happened had it not been for this unique time.
I spend a lot of time anxious and unsure of what will come next. Tears or laughter? Playfulness or stomping to her bedroom? I expect this won’t change for many years. But what I am more sure of than ever before is that my love for her is growing every day. And I find myself looking at her in the way a parent looks at their kid. With a bursting heart of affection. This is the greatest surprise of all.