I guess I wasn’t very discreet yesterday when I talked about my "plans." Even the boys figured it out (I’m sorry, but they’re all boys in my mind). So I will go ahead and admit that the Hub and I are in that stage of life that is euphemistically called "trying." I guess "having sex with a purpose" was already taken. I won’t be blogging too much about ovulation and the like, though, because the whole thing scares the pants off me. Today I’ll put up the long and short of it and then I’ll leave it alone.
Here are my fears (and this is no small list):
- God did not intend for everyone to be parents. Since I was eighteen I’ve had weird aches and pains in the area of my ovaries. I have no idea if it is anything serious since I declined to have a laparoscopy done when these things all started. If God does not see child-bearing in my future than I will not argue with him. I will also say that a palm reader once told me that I would have two children, possibly twins.
- Major life changes scare the bejesus out of me even if it’s something I want. When I first got engaged I would hide my hand under the table, so people wouldn’t ask me about the ring. Talking about weddings, engagements, and all was a bit overwhelming. I had to ease into the whole thing. My mother dragging me around to every reception place/florist/cake maker in town helped.
- I think that having children is, in many ways, the ultimate act of audacity. Of all the people in the world, YOU will make an amazing parent who will have perfect children that will have no problems. Looking around, it’s clear that no child is perfect and there is no way to determine who will have wonderful kids and who will have sociopaths. It’s like the lottery. The Hub says I’ve worked with kids on the brink for too long–I say I’m realistic. Most people don’t think about having kids–they just get pregnant. These are also the people who don’t understand when girls like me have fear and doubts.
- I’m afraid my kids will inherit all of my brain-chemistry baggage. The Hub is terribly well-adjusted. What will he do if he gets a depressed twelve-year-old that needs to be medicated? What will I do? At least I’ll be completely aware of the symptoms and there won’t be any confusion about what it is.
- What will happen if I become one of those boring-ass people who talks about their kid’s bowel movements and such? Will Katy disappear? I guess the internet has helped with this one. Girls like Toni and Mocha have proven that even having kids at a young age doesn’t have to mean compromising your personality and overall fabulousness.
- Will I lose sight of my marriage? I see so many couples that don’t even have time to talk to one another. Mom’s got the kids and dad’s got his thing (Jenn, I had NO idea how to puncutate that one). I LOVE my husband and in no way want to jeopardize what we have. I feel certain that I could only have children with his love and support.
This is the part where people usually tell me I shouldn’t have kids, but here’s the pros or whatever you would call it.
- I have read a LOT on the subject: baby naming, maternity fashion, should you have kids?, Jenny McCarthy’s book. All that info, and all my fears, and I still think I want to do it.
- I am certain that there is more to life than this. My dreams for my life include a house filled with smiles and laughter, homework sessions, and popcorn. These things don’t seem possible without children.
- I love watching children and I am freakishly delighted when people think that I am someone else’s mom. Imagine the pride I would feel if I had my own kids.
- I actually really like teenagers. This makes me a freak, I know. Ages ten to fourteen are a little shaky, but the rest of the time kids seem pretty great. I figure if you can LIKE teenagers when they’re not even yours, you might be able to do the whole kid thing.
- There’s just something about babies. They’re magical. Everyone in a room gravitates right on over.
Wow, I had no idea this was going to be such a long entry. Sorry if I put everyone to sleep, but apparently, I had something to say.
If this entry was too serious for you: imagine me dancing around my den MTV-style to the radio. I think it counts as exercise, right?