Things I Shouldn't Think About
You know what the craziest part is?
I don't even like babies.
I mean, they're cute and all. I can appreciate that. But I do not believe in cooing over them like they're adorable cats or dogs. I'll save that for cats and dogs. I refuse to speak to babies in baby talk. People tell me that's truly for the best, but most others don't adhere to it. No, I'm the weirdo for looking a baby in the face and saying, "Hey kid. What's up?"
I'm an only child. No younger siblings that I took care of. No first cousins. No friends with baby siblings when I was growing up. No baby sitting experience. When coworkers or whomever shows up somewhere with their babies, other women flock to them and grab them and throw them up in the air and kiss their cheeks and smile stupidly. I hang in the background and smile awkardly and say, "Oh, s/he's adorable."
That's the extent of my show of how cute babies are.
I don't know how to change a diaper. I don't know how to feed them. I don't know how to do sweet FA. I am useless.
So why the hell do I want this?
Couldn't tell you. Other than you and me, baby, ain't nothing but mammals, and my stupid mothering animal instincts have kicked in.
I shouldn't think about that, right? I should know that most people don't know what they're doing when they have a baby, and enough babies have been raised this way. You figure it out. "That's the fun part," I was told.
I hate the vast emptiness that I feel through this. I am filled to the brim with a vast emptiness. It's a good line - I wonder if someone else wrote it before me? If not, I need to work it into my novel.
I am not half a person without a baby! I am so complete! I have a job! I own a house! I have a wonderful, supportive partner and am in a beautifully perfect marraige! I have a ton of interests that I get to indulge in. I've travelled extensively and, without kids, we can continue to do that.
I should be thinking all of the above, right? I shouldn't think that, when it boils down to it, our entire biological purpose is to procreate, and if it's something I'm unable to do naturally, then I'm not a complete person.
Right. That's not a true statement at all. In fact, it's incredibly anti-feminist to feel that way. It's a woman's right to not want to have children. She is no less of a person if she doesn't.
Just... I have chosen TO HAVE them. And I can't. My body refuses to. So yeah. I feel incomplete. Even though I shouldn't.
This summer, my aunt, my father's sister, suddenly ended up in the hospital with cancer. She had known about it for years but hadn't told anyone and had refused treatment. She felt that god would take her in his time. It was awful to see her decline so rapidly, and then Jon and I were out of the country when she unfortunately passed.
Which means? She never got to meet my progeny. And I'm the only child on both sides of my family, despite my mother and father each having a brother and sister. So my aunts and uncles are reliant on me to be great aunts and uncles, and I denied one of my aunts that pleasure. And I denied any possible future children I have of my aunt's presence.
Thinking about that leads down a deep, dark rabbit hole. My mother was 36 when she had me. She'll be 70 this summer; my dad is 3 years younger. While most people became grandparents in their 50s or 60s, my parents will be into their 70s before it happens for them. I've wasted that time for them. I've been married for 7 years and didn't even try to have children for the first five. I have deprived my parents the joy of grandchildren for all of that time, and now, there are 5-7 fewer years they'll get with their grandchildren. And again, 5-7 fewer years my grandchildren will have with their grandparents.
I have deprived my family of so much.
But I shouldn't think about that.
I shouldn't think about how much fun most people get to have making a baby. How they don't have to worry about thousands of dollars spent on hormones and shots. Or getting up an hour earlier than usual to go have internal ultra sounds and blood taken. Every other day. And then have their eggs harvested, because what is a woman's body if not a farm? And then have embryos reinserted into their body and then have to take more shots, ones that your doctor told you are actually really painful.
And all of that for a 40-65% chance of becoming pregnant.
I should be positive. I shouldn't think negatively.
I should be grateful for all of the wonderful opportunities I've had and that are presented in front of me.
Yes. Remaining positive is so easy right now.
So easy not to think.
Remaining calm has always been easy for me.
Not.
I don't even like babies.
I mean, they're cute and all. I can appreciate that. But I do not believe in cooing over them like they're adorable cats or dogs. I'll save that for cats and dogs. I refuse to speak to babies in baby talk. People tell me that's truly for the best, but most others don't adhere to it. No, I'm the weirdo for looking a baby in the face and saying, "Hey kid. What's up?"
I'm an only child. No younger siblings that I took care of. No first cousins. No friends with baby siblings when I was growing up. No baby sitting experience. When coworkers or whomever shows up somewhere with their babies, other women flock to them and grab them and throw them up in the air and kiss their cheeks and smile stupidly. I hang in the background and smile awkardly and say, "Oh, s/he's adorable."
That's the extent of my show of how cute babies are.
I don't know how to change a diaper. I don't know how to feed them. I don't know how to do sweet FA. I am useless.
So why the hell do I want this?
Couldn't tell you. Other than you and me, baby, ain't nothing but mammals, and my stupid mothering animal instincts have kicked in.
I shouldn't think about that, right? I should know that most people don't know what they're doing when they have a baby, and enough babies have been raised this way. You figure it out. "That's the fun part," I was told.
I hate the vast emptiness that I feel through this. I am filled to the brim with a vast emptiness. It's a good line - I wonder if someone else wrote it before me? If not, I need to work it into my novel.
I am not half a person without a baby! I am so complete! I have a job! I own a house! I have a wonderful, supportive partner and am in a beautifully perfect marraige! I have a ton of interests that I get to indulge in. I've travelled extensively and, without kids, we can continue to do that.
I should be thinking all of the above, right? I shouldn't think that, when it boils down to it, our entire biological purpose is to procreate, and if it's something I'm unable to do naturally, then I'm not a complete person.
Right. That's not a true statement at all. In fact, it's incredibly anti-feminist to feel that way. It's a woman's right to not want to have children. She is no less of a person if she doesn't.
Just... I have chosen TO HAVE them. And I can't. My body refuses to. So yeah. I feel incomplete. Even though I shouldn't.
This summer, my aunt, my father's sister, suddenly ended up in the hospital with cancer. She had known about it for years but hadn't told anyone and had refused treatment. She felt that god would take her in his time. It was awful to see her decline so rapidly, and then Jon and I were out of the country when she unfortunately passed.
Which means? She never got to meet my progeny. And I'm the only child on both sides of my family, despite my mother and father each having a brother and sister. So my aunts and uncles are reliant on me to be great aunts and uncles, and I denied one of my aunts that pleasure. And I denied any possible future children I have of my aunt's presence.
Thinking about that leads down a deep, dark rabbit hole. My mother was 36 when she had me. She'll be 70 this summer; my dad is 3 years younger. While most people became grandparents in their 50s or 60s, my parents will be into their 70s before it happens for them. I've wasted that time for them. I've been married for 7 years and didn't even try to have children for the first five. I have deprived my parents the joy of grandchildren for all of that time, and now, there are 5-7 fewer years they'll get with their grandchildren. And again, 5-7 fewer years my grandchildren will have with their grandparents.
I have deprived my family of so much.
But I shouldn't think about that.
I shouldn't think about how much fun most people get to have making a baby. How they don't have to worry about thousands of dollars spent on hormones and shots. Or getting up an hour earlier than usual to go have internal ultra sounds and blood taken. Every other day. And then have their eggs harvested, because what is a woman's body if not a farm? And then have embryos reinserted into their body and then have to take more shots, ones that your doctor told you are actually really painful.
And all of that for a 40-65% chance of becoming pregnant.
I should be positive. I shouldn't think negatively.
I should be grateful for all of the wonderful opportunities I've had and that are presented in front of me.
Yes. Remaining positive is so easy right now.
So easy not to think.
Remaining calm has always been easy for me.
Not.
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