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            Babies are the one topic that I really know nothing about. Growing up, the only person I babysat was my brother who is only three years younger than me. I never babysat anyone else. There was no need for a babysitter because my aunts and uncles already had a daycare provider. I am the oldest cousin on my dad’s side of the family (rarely see my mom’s side) and, so, I have been around little kids. However, the youngest of the cousins, besides my younger half-brother, is only six years younger than me. That being said, I was only six when she was a baby. With my half-brother, he is nine years younger than me. I do remember him being a baby, but I wasn’t around a lot to see him grow up. The most I remember of him being a baby is crying, eating, and sleeping. This is pretty much how I thought of babies about a year ago. I was never really around babies as a kid, never babysat one, and never really talked about them. When I went to daycare, there were older babies and toddlers. I would watch them scream, throw stuff, cry, scream again, take a nap, and then scream some more. The daycare provider always seemed to be running around trying to satisfy the needs of each kid. I did not want to have a kid!

All that changed last year in September once I found out that I was pregnant. Given my experience with babies, I was skeptical on how I would take care of one. I looked back on all the experiences I saw with someone taking care of a baby, and tried to hold on to those memories for future assistance.  I read books, looked online, and talked to other moms. I tried gathering all the information I could, but I still didn’t feel ready to be a mom by the time I was in labor. I was scared, but everything seemed to come naturally. My maternal instincts kicked in. I am learning every day with my son, but I would like to learn more.