2005-03-15
To Baby or Not To Baby... That is the question (or IS it?)
HB's boss and his wife are about to be parents for the first time. He had his first "Birthing" class last week, and after two hours of watching "birthing films", Clockwork Orange style with his eyes held open by those nasty reverse eyelash curler things, made the following astute observation to HB:
"Dude. It looks like a wet St. Bernard coming in through the cat door."
I howled. What a perfect metaphor. Or similie. Or Amelie. Yeah, that. Whatever. (says the English major.)
We are surrounded by people having babies. HB is 8 years my junior (yes! I'm a cradle-robbing slut), and therefore EVERYONE around us is pregnant. It's not enough that I still have to go through his and all of his friends' "Happy 40th Birthday, DUDE!" parties just as 50 begins to creep over the horizon through a hazy cloud of regret and longing, now I have to do the baby thing.
I am, literally, in a conundrum.
When I married, HB, I was 39 to his 31. We are compatible in so many ways -- important ways -- and after a lifetime of dating The Wrong Guys (read: unemployed, not-very-smart, but damn, CUTE) I rearranged The List and made A Mature Decision to marry someone whom I know would be true to me, good to me, and would wipe the spittle from my lip and wax my fema-stache when I was in a coma in the hospital. He does other good stuff, too - he makes me laugh. He makes me think. He puts up with my shenanigans and bullshit. He rubs my feet. He loves me for who I am.
I knew he didn't want kids when we married. I was okay with that -- after all, I was 39 and more excited about finding a Truly Good Man (not to mention never having to worry about AIDS or Herpes) than whether or not I had truly reconciled The Baby thing. Diapers and sleepless nights? Fuhgeddaboudit.
But as time has gone on -- as I approach the age when I truly will not have ANY choice but to NOT have children -- and by that I mean BIRTH them -- I vascilate.
See, the one thing I always thought I would do in life -- and do well -- was be a mother. At one point (B.H.B.) I looked into artificial insemmination, but I decided it just wasn't fair to a child to not have a father. And probably not fair to me either. (And shit -- it's expensive as hell!)
So, ironically, I met the Right Guy in so many ways -- but just one tiny thing has some up.
I changed my mind.
I want a baby.
I have put him and me through the wringer on this for the past 3 years, and have finally come to this conclusion: I need to figure out what I want to do. Stay with the man whom I love and who loves me and will love me to the end, but who truly does NOT want children (and I admire and respect his consistency on this topic), or go off and do this thing I keep belly aching about.
There are several other factors to consider:
(1) I lost half my parts about 5 years ago -- I'm only shooting eggs 1/2 the time, AND I'm 45, AND I smoke... AND drink... so... getting pregnant may not be even something I can DO, let alone SHOULD do;
(2) I romanticize the whole thing -- I love BABIES and I want to BIRTH one. I know, weird. But true. A lot of my pent up desire is about the PROCESS -- the approved-belly-expansion, the KICKING (what could BE more cool), the birth -- as well as raising a child -- MY child -- OUR child. No, adoption is not something I would consider -- so it's less about parenting as much as it is about being a biological parent.
(3) I sure as hell do NOT want to have a baby with someone who doesn't want to have one -- I know people in this scenario and it's not happy.
(4) I don't want to have a baby with anyone but HB.
(5) I'm tired. And impatient. And I'm pretty sure I don't want to be 68 with a 20 year old. Pretty. Damn. Sure.
So.. What The Fuck?!!!
Here I am, a 45-year old woman approaching menopause with only 1 ovary and 1 fallopian tube and a jones for being a Mom.
Advice? Thoughts? Any Mom's out there? But before that, let me say that HB is NOT the "bad guy" in this. I changed; he didn't. I knew his position, and I thought I was okay with it.
The upside: HB's sister, my SIL, and her husband, have asked me to be the Godmother of their child, due in August, Babie Gracie.
I'm tickled. Pink, even.
Tickled because they know I'm not catholic (and they aren't going to make me take The Course -- YAY!), I'm not even remotely spiritual, and the true definition of this "position" is someone who is to be the child's "spiritual advisor".
When she asked me I wept -- because it means All That to me.
When I asked her "Why me?", she responded:
"Because. No one will love this baby the way we want her to be loved more than you."
Wow. Strong stuff.
Bring on the St. Bernards, eh? And bear with me, my friends, as I muddle through the next few months -- maybe years.
This, too, shall pass.
Baby Gracie, I await you. Loaded diapers and all. Perhaps you will be "my" baby.
xquzme at sometime today