Whenever I read posts about the varying experiences of motherhood, and the itch so many women get at various points in their lives to make, foster, and love babies of their own, I often find myself holding my breath. I don’t realize I’m barely breathing until a few moment pass by, and I sigh lightly and wonder why I’m so afraid of regretting a decision I feel I’ve already so solidly and intelligently made.
I could laundry list the reasons I don’t believe I will ever be a mom: because I don’t choose to be, don’t want to be, don’t think it’s necessary, for me.
I hear voices talking back to me whenever I start thinking about my imaginary very non-existent children. They are rational voices, calm voices, honest voices. They are loud voices.
But I have names chosen. So many names* that mean so much to me, that would be so perfect, so beautiful. That isn’t a good enough reason.
I know I would be a good mother. I actually really like kids. I’ve counseled at summer camps, taught Sunday School. Babysat every kid on my block. Still not good enough.
Is it so wrong to want to see attributes of myself and my husband reflected in a little someone who is ours? Maybe not. But what about the little someones throughout the world who need homes? Would you not be just as much a mother if you adopted one of them?
But I don’t think I want to adopt, either. Exactly.
I’m simultaneously enthralled and terrified of pregnancy. I can visualize the nine months, the baby showers, the parade of adorable onesies, my mom spoiling the booties off my baby. I can imagine the infancy, the sleepless nights, the formative pre-school years. But the part that terrifies me is that if I do this I’m not “Mom” for nine months, one year, five years. I’m “Mom” for life. Forever. I can’t even imagine how drastically different our lives would perpetually be. I can’t even imagine how selfless we would both have to become.
I think about not ever being ready, and some days I feel beyond content.
I think about not ever being ready, and some days I cringe at the thought of never having a “family”of my own. Of never having a daughter, or a son. Or both.
Just last night I had a dream that Chris and I had a baby, and I was horrified, scared to death–not ready, at all. I awoke unsettled, and with an immense feeling of relief washing over me as I continually remembered it was just a dream. Not real. Not happening.
Chris and I have had many conversations about having kids, and while there is still more to say, I fear I may never be ready (that we may never be ready), and I’m daily learning to be OK with that, if that’s the case.
I realize there is no golden rule, no right or wrong answer so often when the “kids or no kids?” question comes into play. Timing really is everything, and yet, so often it’s nothing at all, too. I suppose that’s because if everyone waited until they were 100% “ready” I can’t imagine the world would be as populated as it is. I realize there is no such thing as “100% ready, set, child!” but that being said, I guess what is so starkly lacking with Chris and I is the innate desire to have a child of our own, and, quite frankly, I just don’t anticipate that lack of desire changing anytime soon.
So for now I suppose it’s accurate to say I’m childless by choice. Until I change my mind. But I probably won’t.
*Seventeen names. I so wish I were exaggerating.
**Post title is a quote from Raising Arizona. You should watch it.
This week I have been:
Writing, editing, and organizing grant proposals, and preparing gargantuan-sized grant budgets feverishly, to meet deadlines both old and new.
Snuggling with my pug and enjoying any downtime I have been able to muster.
Writing! I’m so excited about three different stories I have in the works, and thanks to a recent prompt by Danny, I’ve been sitting down daily to translate my excitement into actual words on a page. (Not unlike snakes on a plane. Only → Read more...
This post inspired by my friend and partner in movie quote crime, Home Sweet Sarah.
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Some of the most memorable places I have stood, in no particular order:
On The Great Wall of China. Next to my sister as she took her wedding vows. In front of the Kremlin in Moscow. Next to my favorite Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. Priest Lake. Specifically, my family’s Priest Lake dock spot. On Mt. Seorak, South Korea. Poolside for countless summers with friends, and cousins, and awesome(ly ridiculous) bikinis. At the base → Read more...
Full disclosure: I initially considered titling this post !!!!!!!!! but Wordpress started laughing at me, and threatened to throw spam.
At this point to say I cannot contain my already typically excessive exclaiming is to understate. HOW am I going to refrain from blurting out, “Hawaii! I’m going there!” from now until I leave at the beginning of September? Better yet, Maui! + getting to see my sister in TWO WEEKS = how am I going to sleep tonight? And the → Read more...
Originally aired: January 19, 2007. Watched by Kerri Anne: August 1, 2010. Courtesy of: Netflix Instant Watch. Because: a) I was in the mood for a lighthearted, kid-centric story; b) Netflix told me I would four stars enjoy it and saw fit to leave out crucial somber-tone-revealing plot points in their synopsis; c) Netflix is a lying liar face; d) ALL OF THE ABOVE.
Starring: A slew of great Spanish actors you’ve probably never heard of, most notably Ivana Baquero and Maribel Verdú. Protagonist’s → Read more...