It seems that I can not log on to Facebook these days without seeing some Sears portrait of another one of my friends pregnant or holding her newborn with her bejeweled, cornrowed baby-daddy.
When I was in middle school, I remember fearing getting my period because once you got a period, you could get pregnant, and once you got pregnant, your life would be over and you would receive a first-class ticket from the state to the community college, a bus pass, and some WIC vouchers which, since you could get real cheese and Juicy Juice, would make the whole thing feel worthwhile. And then of course, you would have the baby, your Aunty would throw you a shower in the back of her hair salon with you and twenty of your other pregnant, teen buddies, and then your boyfriend would disappear...either by choice or incarceration.
I say all this to say that I have been groomed from a young age to fear pregnancy; to loathe the idea of having a baby. So when I log on to Facebook for my daily chats and photo surfing, my stomach tightens to see that a large portion of my female friends, some of them up to five years younger than me, are having or have had a baby. The other day I had to stop myself from accidentally posting "I'm sorry girl:(" under one of the pics of her newborn.
Okay, I know what you are thinking and yes, I am aware that I am 24 and that is old enough to start a family. But if you mention the word baby to me, I might as well be twelve, waiting for my first period. I am also aware that if I want to start a family, the best of my baby-bearing years will be over is 6 years. Who wants to be the oldest mom at the PTA meeting, the one that they stick with making the bake sale cookies because all the young mothers have jobs and active social lives?
And guys with kids? Please, every guy I have liked that I met outside of the college dating pool has had kids. My mom had a boyfriend when I was growing up. A child doesn't have to tell me how much they hate the fill-in step parent.
Do I want kids? I don't know. I do know that once I felt that I was sooo in love that I wanted to have a boy's babies. Can you imagine? If that disaster would have come to pass, I would have a two-year-old right now! I would be the one with pics of myself at the birthday party with the Batman cake and the Bob the Builder birthday dunce caps; I would be a mother.
Mother. Christ, it feels like I just learned how to spell that word while I have friends that are living it. It's weird! One day, probably about six years from now, I will be complaining about wanting kids and not having any, hoping that I keep getting periods as long as possible until I can make it to the sperm bank. Six years from now my baby fear will be replaced by...by no-baby fear.
For now, I guess all I can do is be there for my new mommy homies, and wait with my chastity belt slightly ajar, in hopes of finding the bejeweled, cornrowed baby-daddy of my dreams.
No comments:
Post a Comment