As a parent of 3 grown children, and a grandmother or Nana of 4 young ones, I have never had more joy, fear, worry, laughter, anguish, and heartache in my life then when I started having kids. There are so many different beautiful and ugly things about having kids it is more of an oxymoron than ironic. As children ourselves it never crosses our minds what we put our parents through. I mean why would it? We are too busy playing with our friends, discovering new and weird things everyday or just plain too hungry or tired to care. As a child all we truly understand is that we are cold, hot, hungry, tired, scared, happy, too full, alone or hurt. As a child we look to the one source that can solve every problem we have, our mom or dad. Until we have a child of our own, regardless of age, understanding the requirements and mandatory duties involved in solving all those issues that are so important, do these issues start to become another thing altogether. I never worried about where I would sleep, having clean cloths, food in my stomach or an education. I did not have too because I had my mom for all of that. I used to always wonder why she was so tired and cranky. Was it something I said, I did or did not do? Did someone else upset my mommy? Why was she so tired all the time? These were what I worried about. Not what needed ti be worried about for sure. My mother raised me and my brother as a single parent for half of our lives. She worked 2 jobs most if the time. Lived with other to help cut the cost of raising 2 kids on her own. I worshipped my mom and the ground she walked on. So it was only natural that the first time I found out I was pregnant that I would turn to her. That was the beginning of the end of my life and only living for myself. Even as I went through my pregnancy I did not grasp the concept of being 100% responsible for another living and breathing human being. All I knew then was that I would love this child, and the child would love me, like no other person in the world. I actually believed that my love for this little being would be enough. I mean my mom did it so how hard could it really be right? Well I most certainly found out after 9 months of difficult pregnancy, and I thought that was rough. Of course after the first one how difficult could two be? I mean by now I have the diapers figured out, the naps, and the first stages of a baby. I got this! Oh Boy was I ever wrong!! It never in my life accord to me that this was just the beginning of my trials and tribulations. I suppose I just never bothered to envision far enough into the future to see all the scares I would have because my oldest thought he was invincible as the car came speeding down the street right at him. Or how about the fear I had when my second child's father took him away? Or even the terror I would feel as my youngest child was lifted 30 feet into the air, strapped in a cloth binding that I prayed wasn't damaged, and then released to soar through the air as if on a gigantic swing. I actually thought I was having a heart attack that day. Again still not the worst of it, still just the beginning because they were so young still. As they grew well so did the problems and the mandatory support they needed. Many people would think that when I say mandatory support I am referring to money. As much as that is needed and basically required to raise a child it is not what I reference regarding support. No as they grew the mandatory support needed is more on an emotional and a mental requirement. None of us are born automatically knowing how to cope with life and all of it's complexities. So we look to the bigger people that give us food and shelter to teach us. Now that my children are full grown, and two having had children of their own, I get to see those sacrifices panned out. I realize that not every story is the same for everyone. I do believe though that regardless of your own personal story as parents in one way or another we make a sacraffice when we chose to bring a child into the world, and this story just happens to be mine.