I took Child Development in my second semester of freshman year. It was nothing too challenging, we learned all the different types of childbirth, how a toddler’s brain works, and how they see the world, just everything you would expect from a normal high school Child Development class. I really did enjoy it until one day she said we would be taking care of a Realcare Baby. According to kankakeehealth.org, a RealCare Baby infant simulator is a lifelike, lifesize baby doll with realistic computerized responses. This allows teens to experience some of the demands of infant care. This might sound scary, and trust me it is, but the first thought that came to my mind was “Oh that sounds fun!” and I’ve never been more wrong in my life.
I honestly have no clue as to why I even thought that the baby simulator would be fun. I’ve never really wanted to be a mother, I never really liked babies, and most importantly, all my friends had one before me and told me their horror stories about the little demon. I’d even helped one of my friends with her Realcare Baby as it started wailing loudly during WIN time, and I was so scared that I just didn’t know what to do. So I have no idea as to why I thought “Oh I could totally handle my own baby for four whole days even though I almost had a mental breakdown over my friend’s baby after it cried for only 30 seconds.”
The day I got my baby wasn’t terrible, (The day, keep in mind. Nothing in the whole wide world could prepare me for the first night.) I got her at 8:00 am like everyone else did, and she only cried once that morning, and it was for a quick and easy diaper change. The morning kept going smoothly, just another normal Thursday besides the fact that I had a scary robot thing right at my hip at all times. Everything was fine; I liked holding her because she was like 10 pounds. It’s sort of comforting, until she started crying. I was in Journalism and she just started screaming. I wasn’t really that worried, since my teacher had told me everything I needed to do when she started crying, but what did worry me was the fact that she cried 12 times. I may sound dramatic but I can tell you that the little robot needed to be burped for 5 minutes, then a minute later she needed to be fed for 5 minutes, then a minute later she needed to be changed, and the cycle repeated a good five times. The same thing happened in my last block, and until I went to sleep. She woke me up screaming her head off at about 2:00 in the morning, which led me to stay up all night out of pure terror.
The days after that first night were horrible. When I had this baby it felt like something in me died, like a part of my soul was ripped out and crushed right in front of me. I’d lost all hope, but I really didn’t think it could get worse. Trust me, it did. All she did was scream, cry, and scream and cry some more. Every moment of silence was a gift from the heavens, and I tried to sleep every time she was quiet. But I couldn’t, I was far too anxious to fall asleep out of the pure fear this baby emits and gives to me like a Christmas present. The only emotions I felt were anxiety, panic, and just emptiness. The day I gave her back felt like a 50,000-pound weight had been lifted off my chest. It most definitely showed me that I’m never having kids, it’s definitely not for me (At least not for now).