I feel it coming. This sixth sense, niggling sensation of your own impending doom--
Emerald is going to ask about sex soon.
Honestly, I am surprised it has not happened already. She is eight years old, a precocious child if ever there was one. Many times, she has flirted around the topic, dancing dangerously close to the flame. I dole out partial answers, addressing the specific questions she asks.
She knows that babies grow in a special organ called the mother’s womb. She is aware that childbirth hurts, though she isn’t sure why.
That specific exchange, which happened shortly after my niece Clara was born, went something like this--
Emerald: Mom, why does having a baby hurt?
Me: Well, where on a woman’s body is big enough to get Clara out of without being uncomfortable?
She knows there is a “magic shot” you get in your back that makes having a baby hurt less, and that Mommy had c-sections, meaning they cut the babies out. (Prompting her to ask if they used a chainsaw.) She is actually pretty clear on what menstruation is, the function and reality of it. I have covered cramps and lady products and all that joy.
When I was younger, my older sister got her period; I was so uninformed that I thought Amber was sick/dying and that I could catch it. Not exactly the experience I was wanting for my daughter.
I’m not really the “we’ll cross that river when we come to it” type. Michael is precisely that way; he thinks I am borrowing trouble for tomorrow when we have plenty enough trouble for today. It is just such an awful feeling to be unprepared. Worse yet? To be caught off guard and miss the moment all together.
Good or bad, I shoot fairly straight with her. It started when Emerald, while bathing with her younger brother, asked what Gabriel “sat in”. Had we discussed it, Michael and I might have agreed on a nice, vague euphemism. Startled, I replied, “It’s his penis”. She nodded and that was the end of it.
There have been some miscommunications at times. Benjamin came squalling in the room crying that Emerald told him, “When you are five, they take you to the hospital; they give you diabetes and cut off your penis, and then you’re a girl.”, which did NOT sound like something Ben wanted to have happen.
(Note from the author: While traditionally I am pretty much shameless, even I am having the good grace to feel uncomfortable writing this with VeggieTales Silly Songs playing in the background.)
There is such a fine line between providing adequate, appropriate information and revealing too much. Most parents are so uncomfortable talking to their kids about sex and love and relationships. Part of me secretly hopes Emerald becomes the first Church of Christ nun so that I don’t ever have to worry about it or think about it. Of course, that is never going to happen--there is not enough luck in the world. (Kidding.)
She still needs to be informed, though. There is so much misinformation out there; the thought of her being educated in the more delicate matters on the internet is just horrifying to me.
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(This, utterly untrue picture for instance. Sex can be bumbling, awkward, messy, and straight-up unenjoyable under the exact right--or wrong--circumstances. And I have had some truly awful pizza.)
What do I tell her?
Mechanics aside, how do you teach her to protect her heart? I have made it more difficult on myself because while teaching her the consequences of premarital sex, I have to carefully skirt the issue that she herself was a consequence.
She is and always has been such an incredible blessing in our lives, and we thank God everyday for her. But...it was a lot harder on us because we didn’t wait. We struggled financially for years, trying to afford the cost of a child while we were still in school. When we had her, we were so young and completely unprepared for the realities of having a child, beyond our own ignorance on parenting.
I wish I had so much more time with Michael alone before I had to share him. He is my favorite person, someone I genuinely enjoy being around. We have so much fun together, we make each other so happy, but the vast majority of our relationship has been spent sharing our spouse with children (so many children). I wanted more time for it just to be us.
I am also not ignorant of the fact that we kind of lucked out.
Think about how many couples you know that got pregnant before they were married. The ones that I know of...most didn’t last. Having to deal with all of that hardship while the kids were little while dealing with a dissolving relationship sounds devastating. I could straight up not have done any of this without Michael; there is no part of this that would have been improved by he and I fighting, or not being together.
I’d like to think that we were terribly insightful and clever for having chosen one another, but the fact of the matter is, we just got lucky. (Pun not intended; get your mind out of the gutter.) It could have so easily gone the other way, and we would have been left with a truncated relationship and broken hearts.
With all my heart, I believe in God’s timing. Or, at least that God can work good of any situation. Maybe it is a combination of both that was at work here. Either way--with my considerable reproductive health and gestational problems--had we waited until we were older, there would very likely be no Benjamin.
Yeah, Michael and I have had it tough, but I would like to believe it has made us stronger. We have had to rely so heavily on God throughout our whole marriage, and He has been good to us.
That doesn't seem like something Emerald needs to know right now, at any rate.
Do I tell her about the heartbreak of failed relationships? Are there words I could say that could save her from that pain? If someone had told me, would it have prevented my own mistakes?
Or are you supposed to let them just live their lives and figure it out for themselves?
On my mind is how I teach her about self-worth, separate from the attention of lovers, apart from physical contact. I know so many people that judge their value by who loves them, desires them. She cannot grow up thinking that she is the sum of her attractiveness or what she can offer others. That she respects herself and is treated with respect is paramount. When girls don’t, they often find themselves in situations and with people that are frankly not good enough for them.
I know all the facts, statistics. Pressed, I can likely give her a scientific rundown on reproduction that will adequately mollify her curiosity, stave off the questions for a few years at least. Putting it off and off, hoping the situation will resolve itself...I can’t; that’s just not me. I can’t miss the moment; once it has passed, it will be gone forever.
--Andie
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