I’m 32. Not exactly old, but not exactly a spring chicken when it comes to thinking about procreation and it’s something that is certainly on my brain. Every. Freaking. Day.
Over the years I’ve waffled back and forth as to whether I even WANT my own children. In college I didn’t want them. No way. No how. I didn’t want to be just like my own Mom (at the time) and I would ruin their lives. /drama. After I met my first love, nature kicked in and I wanted BABIES. NOW. Since then, the desire has come and gone and suddenly, come back again. With a vengeance.
What’s really happening I think, is I’m trying to convince myself that I will be okay if I don’t end up having children. Which I will be. I swear. For various reasons, I’m just not at a point right now where it is feasible. I know people say “You’re never really ready” but I’m honest when I say…I know, this is not the time even if I were confident in having babies.
I never dreamed of having babies as a child myself. I never really gave a thought to it to be honest. Much like I never dreamed of what my wedding would look like or life for that matter. There’s a part of me that feels selfish for thinking that…I don’t even know what I am doing with my life yet career wise and how could I give that possibility up to have a child at this point. I don’t think I could. Yes, I know. Children don’t end your life, but they DO change it. I can’t just jump to a fitness class, or full time school with ease…with a baby. Sure you can do it, but it isn’t quite as easy.
The problem is: I LOVE children. I really do. I am completely obsessed with everybody else’s’ kids. I know more about breastfeeding and childbirth than normal non-pregnant women do. I love everything surrounding it and can’t help to research, read up, study and learn constantly. I am a strong advocate for breastfeeding, natural childbirth and midwifery, yet I rarely speak up because I fear the dreaded, “You’ve never had children” comment. I know that I would make a wonderful Mother should it happen. Should I make that choice. I know I’d be super hard on myself, yet I really do think I could do a damn good job at raising independent, intelligent, compassionate and loving kids. I’d try to the best of my abilities anyway!
Yet still, I just DON’T KNOW if it will ever happen.
It’s true. I’ve never had children and sometimes it feels like I’m on the outside of some exclusive club, looking longingly toward the secret handshake protected inner sanctum and I just want in! I want to ask about birth stories, trials and tribulations, happiness and struggle. I want to know it all, I just…don’t know if I’ll ever have my own. And I’m not really sure I’m okay with it. Yet.
I really cannot properly express how intense my desire to be a part of this whole community is without being more of a complete creeper than I already am. I swear, I’m not leering at your children. I am merely looking at them (and you) in awe and thinking how freaking amazing they are and wonderful. I’m looking at you and thinking what a great job you’re doing and how amazing it is that you’re juggling a shopping cart, your infant who is screaming for food, your purse, another toddler all while trying to get groceries. I want to stop you, applaud you and hold your kid so you can find your keys.
I suspect that in the future, with or without my own children, I’ll become a doula or midwife. I will study my heart out and know all that I possibly can. I’ll continue to learn. By god, I’ll help women bring their own babies into this world even if I don’t bring any into it on my own.
That, I just might be able to reconcile. For now. I think.