Of course by this I mean the production of infant human beings.
I think there’s a certain amount of oestrogen (or whatever hormone it should be) involved in my feeling a little wistful when I hear about other people being pregnant or seeing babies blissing out in moments of calm — it’s like there’s a twinge in the uterus, which is saying to me, I’m not just hanging out here to chat, you know, you have a biological imperative to try to pass on your genes; what’s taking you so long, I’m withering away here from lack of use.
Neil reckons he feels like he’s expected to want babies (‘some day, not now’) because that’s what people our age are supposed to do. I just want to know what he thinks about the whole concept as an intellectual exercise and I think he thinks I’m sounding him out because I want to talk him into it. But that could just be my hormones jumping to conclusions.
Social pressure doesn’t really get to me in that way I don’t think, but as mentioned, a hella lot of people I know are squeezing out the rugrats this year (or early next). My body is lecturing my reproductive organs with every pregnancy announcement I hear that I’m in my thirties so I’d better get a move on. There’s a lot of twingeing and stomach-knotting happening right here, right now.
Frankly, I’m terrified at the prospect of raising anything more than my chive plant that simply refuses to die. How can I possibly incubate another human being for 40 weeks (I can’t even grow beansprouts)? Labour is hell on earth. Post-partum depression sounds like runny, smelly, farty shite when the loo won’t flush. On top of that I’d be in charge of another person who’d be completely helpless and will stay that way for ages. I like my sleep. Unconditional love for a creature that is likely to love you not quite as much as you do when they’re grown up sounds like a horrible thing to live with. What if, no matter what you do, your kid turns out to be a total dickhead? How is any of this worth it? If I’ve never had that hormonal rush that makes a mother go all gaga over their baby, why should I feel I’d be missing out on anything? Will there be any regret over the choice I do (or refuse to) make?
It’s not that I don’t feel ‘ready’ to have a baby, readiness has bugger all to do with it — I’m just not sure I’m the kind of person who should. I don’t need to be convinced of anything because I’ve yet to work out if I even want to take a position on this.
(The reality is I’ll do nothing and the choice will be made for me. That’s the proactive, decisive, and confident way I roll.)
The Internet is great, isn’t it? I am truly just talking talking talking complete and utter drivel no one else gives a shit about and there’s no shutting me up because I’ve paid for the server space.
Drivel? No.
Failure to give a shit? No. (It’s true that I only know you to the limits of what I’ve read here, but that’s certainly enough to give a shit.)
If nothing else, I turn 35 a week from Tuesday (gawd, has it really been that long?) and about to watch my prospects leap. As a guy I don’t get the biological/hormonal imperative, and my friends cannot be described in aggregate as a rugrat factory.
For all that, a long list of friends who formerly swore that they couldn’t stand the thought of kids have… come around, shall we say. It definitely makes a guy pause.
…And in my case, the thought is “commit acts that will result in the existence of someone sorta like me?” Ehhh. My ego’s not big enough to believe that’d be an entirely good thing.
Plus, there’s the matter of sleep.
Here’s to hoping that in the end the choice will be entirely deliberate.
Comment by ben — 27 June 2009 @ 9:23 pm
How about looking it as a chance to pack on all that weight you always wanted? (sorry ;)
Comment by Terry — 28 June 2009 @ 2:19 am
Terry, you make light of such a momentous life change that NO ONE ELSE IN THE WORLD COULD POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND. Ahem.
It’s nice to know I’m not alone in being this confused about the whole thing. Neil says No, my hormones are not jumping to conclusions, but he still doesn’t seem to want to discuss the possibility of having an opinion… grr.
Comment by Andrea — 28 June 2009 @ 5:00 pm
meh. i wouldn’t worry about the chive plant thing. kids are remarkably resilient. good comedic value too. and labour really isn’t *that* bad (or so i keep telling myself, since i get to do it again later this year). i think you’d make good parents.
Comment by kristen — 29 June 2009 @ 4:40 am
Having read Dooce’s book, I’m sure labour is worse than anything I could ever imagine! A migraine makes me nauseous as it is.
I’m going to try keeping a coriander plant alive next; if it survives the discussion may continue.
Comment by Andrea — 29 June 2009 @ 9:45 am