Young Mothers.

I went to a Reconciliation service a few weeks ago during Lent. My mom went with me, and my two older kids stayed home with my husband. I took the baby, since he's literally attached to my breast a majority of the day and has absolutely no idea what to do with a bottle. I don't mind one bit.

While waiting in line to speak to the Priest, my mother and I were talking and I saw my little one smiling over my shoulder. I turned around and there was an older woman making faces at him. I smiled at her and we started some small talk. Which I am terrible at, by the way. I mumbled things about not knowing which priest to see. Anyway, babies happen to be good for chatting, thank goodness. Especially when they are in good moods and like to smile at older ladies; until she said, "I assume this is your first!"

Cue familiar awkwardness. I look younger than I am, for one thing, or so I have been repeatedly told. I am 25. When my husband and I spent our wedding night at a hotel, I was sitting outside taking in the scenery and the lady in the room next to us waited for my husband to go inside and asked me in a very concerned tone if I was ok. I'm sure it looked like I was an underage naive child who had been whisked away by the scary-looking man (he can look scary, I'll grant you that, and he is obviously older than I am). I assured her I was of age and that we had just been married. I'm not sure she was satisfied.

Anyway. I smiled and told the woman in church that no, actually, he was my third and my oldest is almost seven years old (I may have left out that particular in this instance, I just said he was my third). I'm well-versed in the reaction to this; peoples' smiles freeze, the air becomes heavy, their eyes begin to glaze over a tad bit. Then the uncomfortable laughter and glancing at my ring finger. Often, the exclamation that I am "too young to be a mother!" I have learned to counter this by saying it first. "I know, I'm too young to be a mother." That's generally when the conversation ends in these little chance meetings, and yes, I'd rather have the last word.

Because it's true and I do know it. I am too young to be a mother. I was always too young to be a mother. I look at my oldest daughter and I see someone I grew up alongside, not someone I am raising. I was too young. All those stereotypes of teen mothers? I fit some of them. I live in poverty. I have not finished college. I married young. I am on government assistance sucking up all your tax dollars. I've dug myself into a hole that just keeps getting deeper.

I suppose every parent grieves for the life they had before. All those possibilities, opportunities, good memories of great and carefree times. Flexibility, freedom, whatever.

I grieve those too at times. I never had them to begin with, but I'm hardly the exception to the reality of deciding to be the caregiver of another human being.

I chose to be a mom and I chose it happily and I am glad I did. Even if I am too young.