Echoes.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the paths in my life that I’ve meandered down.
Some going forwards, many going backwards, some going really nowhere at all.
For me parenting has been one of those winding paths.
I don’t think that you can become a mom in your teenage years and not go in a gazillion different directions trying to find the Right Way.
Life surprises throw you curve balls and it’s a measure of character just how you field those when they reach you.

I made a semi-joke on another blog today (on a very clever blog post by one of my newfound favorites, Fierce Beagle) about Nick and I handling this pregnancy with the Sink or Swim Method – a joke that doesn’t even come close to the juggling and planning that is going into making sure this child’s life is a bit smoother than Abbey’s.
You see, I had to sink or swim with Abbey too – but entering adulthood at 16 is far different than dealing with an unplanned pregnancy at 30.

At 30, I define my pregnancy as unplanned simply because I hadn’t penciled it in to my schedule – hadn’t yet made the decisions and sacrifices needed to choose to parent again. But I was conscious of biology and knew, on a subconscious level, that it was just a matter of time.
At 16, my pregnancy was unplanned because EVERYTHING was unplanned. Even the act that provided my fertile self a baby was unplanned. Heck, my afternoon SNACKS were unplanned.
And so I entered parenthood completely clueless – and am continuing through parenthood so incredibly grateful that I am blessed with the family I’m blessed with, that Abbey and I had the support needed PSYCHOLOGICALLY to ensure that she hasn’t had to pay for my lack of planning. I had to work hard, 2 or 3 jobs at a time to handle the monetary part of parenting, but I KNEW I could do it because of my support system.

Now, with this pregnancy, everything has changed.
Oh, not the support.
My family is still here for me, but this time my support has evolved.
I’ve added age and wisdom, a husband, a TON of in-laws, a maturing and wonderful daughter, and more than anything, I’m in a different place mentally.
I’ve grown up.

And even though I’m still completely clueless – now starting all over after having separated the two pregnancies by slightly more than 14 years – it’s almost a joyful cluelessness. The problems that I face with this child will be entirely different than the heartbreaking problems that go along with missed chances and opportunities of growing up as a child raising a child.
It’s bittersweet, knowing that I have a chance to fix many of the wrongs from the first time around – not merely the parenting mistakes that we all make, but the mistakes that come from following your hormones at 15 and having a child pay that price with custody battles and therapy appointments.

You see, she and I did play sink or swim.
And we continue to swim, though more in a dog paddling sense than the assertive breast stroke sense.

But our life is changing.

With this second pregnancy, to sink or swim means that we’ve decided I’ll stay at home. It means we’re questioning our priorities and our quality of life choices in order to provide more support for my two children from this point on. We’re going to continue to drive that 14 year old Mustang, to continue to budget shop, to continue to pray to avoid medical surprises. Our children will have a better foundation now – while we are still energetic enough to provide it – and less of a financial push later on, when they may very well need – or hope for it.

They’ll have to sink or swim based upon their choices too. Colleges and car payments, relationships and faulty judgments. And making that decision for the two of them has been scary.
Weighing the benefits of this life versus the life with the shinier cars and splashy vacations that we all want is petrifying. Choosing the road that is (now) less travelled is petrifying.
Everything about standing on a fence, knowing that a large gust could send us to either side – either make it or break it – is petrifying.

But I think we’re doing the right thing.
Sometimes the good in life stems from the sacrificing versus the spending.
Erin spoke on her blog of the American Dream and while Nick and I may never have that, I think we’re defining our own dream, bit by bit.
He may be bald with stress by the time we figure out if this will work or not, but we WILL figure it out.
We have to.

Because you see, I much prefer swimming to sinking.