That is one seriously happy wiener.
Last night I was clearing the kitchen table so I could put together some favors for an office event. I’m picking up screw drivers and receipts and mail and recently-removed lampshade hats and I’m thinking to myself, “My goodness. We’re just living all over this place.”
What a funny thought. And so perfectly true. We’re living all over the place. Our lives are simple — work, school, chores, dog walks, dinner, work, school, chores, dog walks, dinner, work, school, chores, dog walks, dinner — but we love it that way. There are things we could whine and bitch about, for sure, but we have a good life. We’re in love. We’ve got these two stupid dogs and these two mean cats and a python that thinks we’re just barely too big to eat. We’ve got a huge, wonderful extended family. Mike is in school and I love my job and everything is kind of perfect. We’re living and enjoying our life instead of sloshing through it just to survive. And sometimes that means there are wads of dog hair under the kitchen table and piles of mail on top of it, but my point is: Mess on the kitchen table and all, I wouldn’t change a thing about our life.
Or would I? I’ve been thinking a lot about babies. (Like that’s new.) At first I thought it was just because I was ovulating, but that was weeks ago and I’m still baby crazy. (More than usual.) But then I think about our life now, and how different it would be if there was a baby. And I think about how much work a baby is and I know that I would end up doing most of the work because Mike doesn’t have boobs and how could I balance it with my job? And what if I suck at it? What if I hate it? What if I resent the baby or Mike resents the baby because everything was perfect and then we had a baby and ruined everything? I hear that’s what happens to people. They have a new baby and for the first three months they stare at that screaming thing and wonder what on Earth they did to their life.
I don’t want to feel that way about a baby. I want us to be stupidly, madly, happily in love with our baby. But what if we’re not? THEN WHAT?
This is what keeps me awake at night.
Frost, September 7th 2011 |
Depending on whether or not you’ve read my About page, what I’m going to say may come as a surprise.
I am completely baby-crazy. I can’t remember when it started. I do remember a specific evening in April of 2008 when my brother asked me whether or not my hormones had kicked in and my response was to scrunch up my face, stick out my tongue and say, “Blegh. No way.”
“Really? Because all my chick friends are going crazy over babies right now.”
“I am so not ready. The idea of having kids right now makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little.”
That month I received what was to be the first of many emails announcing someone’s pregnancy. I was horrified. I wrung my hands nervously and wondered, what ever would she do? The poor girl was going to have to give up her entire life! What I didn’t realize at the time was that I was projecting. My friend wasn’t going to have to give up her entire life, I was. Except I wasn’t because I wasn’t the pregnant one. But you know what I mean.
After the fifth email from my fifth expecting friend I started feeling wistful. I wanted it to be me. Except if I got pregnant I wouldn’t be able to send out an announcement saying, “we’re over the moon” or “we’re so excited to be starting a family together” or “we feel like we’ve been blessed with a miracle”. My announcement would read: “Whoops! Looks like we slipped up somewhere because surprise! We’re pregnant! We’re totally freaked out and we don’t know what we’re going to do, we’re pretty sure this means we’ll be broke and miserable for the rest of our lives, but we’re gonna give it a go. Pray for us, keep your fingers crossed, and try not to gossip about us.”
A few months later I realized I had eleven pregnant friends and family members and that must have been when it happened. A hormone switch flipped. I don’t know how to explain it any other way. Maybe it was herd syndrome. Like when you’re trying to get out of the subway at rush hour and you walk to the turnstile with the longest line instead of walking to the turnstile no one’s using. I do that all the time. Three turnstiles crammed with people, one person, one at a time, click, click, click. At the end of the platform a fourth turnstile, empty, sad, alone, invisible to the herd. I always stay in the long line because it feels like too much effort to walk over to the empty one, but maybe that’s a different issue I need to be dealing with. Either way, it happened over night. One day I was perfectly happy living alone with Mike and four animals and the next morning I woke up and I wanted a baby so badly I thought I was going to die.
Thanks to my Moon Cycle Chart I have learned that these feelings are greatly exacerbated between the fourteenth and thirty-fourth days of my cycle. Between days one and ten I’m baby-crazy but not to the point where I believe my ovaries are berating me for the eggs I’m wasting. On the eleventh day I begin rationalizing why this month might be a good time to start trying and by day fourteen I’m kind of like a cat in heat which sounds funny in a literary sense but is actually really awkward. I recently made Mike promise that he would not agree to start trying for a baby unless we were making the decision between the first through tenth day of my cycle because it’s a decision I’d like to make with my brain instead of my hormones.
To be continued…
Frost, January 18th 2010 |