On the subject of children

One of my friends has 3 of those strange creatures called children. Another friend is trying to create one. I also have a friend who doesn't want any. I observe these people, my friends and their children or lack of. And I am trying to figure out what my position is on that subject. Do I really want what I think I want? Do I want it because I was I taught that I should want it or because science says I can't have it? Is there really a biological clock inside me which has started ticking? And if so, does it run on batteries I can remove?

I remember taking care of my doll when I was a child. Despite my young age, I was a very responsible and affectionate mother, making sure my baby was tucked in, singing her to sleep and all the like. Sometimes I would even feed her and ask if she'd like a cookie with her milk. I never ever left her alone at home and I even insisted my mother made a cake for her birthday. Later, when I got a bit older, I started imagining what it would be like to have my own family. I could never imagine myself with my husband but, oh boy, could I imagine myself with my children! And I also remember the day I began feeling inadequate and decided that I must be a horrible person to want children that would definitely end up being miserable with me as their mother. So I swore off the idea and all was well, because I was only 15 and what teenager would be so concerned about motherhood?

Science came into the picture a few years later. Now, science didn't say that having children was impossible, just that it would be very difficult and advised me against it. I shrugged it off. I didn't really care, did I? Pfft, kids. Time consuming, soul sucking little devils. It took me a while to realise that if this was truly how I saw kids, I would have been relieved at the thought of not being able to have any. But I wasn't relieved. I was just numb and afraid to look under the numbness, discover what was hiding underneath.

 

The change didn't happen overnight. I wasn't lying peacefully in bed, only to jump up suddenly and exclaim "Oh, my goood! I want all the babies! How could I have been so blind?" It took a lot of time and effort. Taking care of other people's children proved to be much easier than I thought, a task I didn't suck at. I didn't drop them, I didn't scream at them when they frustrated me, I didn't feel like hitting them after I found out they'd drawn pretty balloons on the wall. It was the strangest thing. When they asked me to dance with them, I did. When they wanted me to play with them, I did. I fed them, spoke calmly when they were crying, I became a one woman show when they needed entertainment. Even when I was exhausted, I managed not to fail. I managed not to fail them. My friend's kids ask for me sometimes, when they're upset. I consider this an achievement.

My mother used to say -and I hope she's regretted it by now- that I was the best child in the whole wide world... when I was asleep. To be perfectly honest, I was a horrible little shit and gave my parents such a hard time, I still wonder how it never occurred to them to sell me. I was a pretty little girl, I could fetch a good price! Do not doubt it for a moment, I could! But then I think, if I were in my mother's shoes, what would I have done? I would have been patient, I would have been affectionate. I would never have joked about my kid being adorable only while it slept but ok, honest mistake, mum. I'll let this one go...

 

I can't think of becoming a mother at this point in my life. Other things need to be taken care of first, like my health or having a steady job. Sorting my life out in general. The possibility of having a child seems rather... impossible. Let's face it, it most likely won't happen. Because of various and important reasons which I am not at liberty to discuss with anyone ever. But at least I know where I stand and that's something. Kids, yes or no? Yes. Definitely yes. In an alternative universe, where I can have my heart's desire, children are a part of the picture and I may not be the perfect mother but I am giving it my best.

(If you found this post boring because of its subject, well, tough titty. I can't talk about this to anyone and what's a blog for, if not to vent your frustration?)