Please do not be offended by the stream of crazy you are about to read.
I didn’t think that I’d be fazed by turning 30, in fact, I’m still not. I’m a few months off yet, but everyone makes such a big deal of it when you say 30. Like it’s the end of your life or something. I have always determined to not worry about after some sage advice from Susan when I was still an impressionable teenager.
The problem is that my body doesn’t feel the same way.
I was very pleased to find my first ever grey hair last week, it’s very shiny and silver. This evening I noticed that it has a friend, just hanging out nearby. I’m hoping they recruit more of their near friends so that I can have a Rogue-esque silver lock of hair at the front. I have totally wanted one of those since I read the Belgariad by David Eddings.
My body clock is what is really driving me crazy though. I’ve never been a baby person, I’ve never really wanted one of my own. I’m much better with kids aged about 4 and up, you know, the ones that are toilet trained and capable of forming whole sentences. They’re like little people. I’ve never understood the desire to have something that screams and poops and you have to be the one that deals with the poop and all their vomit. That grosses me out. My body clock has a different frame of mind. It will see some innocent person walking down the street with a baby in a pram and my whole hormonal uterus will suddenly ache and scream in my ear Babybabybabybabybaby!
When I think of my friends who are pregnant, I think about how lucky they are, and how they must feel like they are so totally blessed. Then I feel sad that I am not pregnant. Then my brain actually kicks in and says ‘what? WHAT?’ And I wonder what that was all about, because I love my life how it is now. With long sleep ins when I want them, uninterrupted nights, no nappies to change and no one’s vomit to clean up but my own. And I know how to aim into the toilet so it all just flushes away.
Besides all that, Lee and I have two mortgages right now and it’s a recession and we can’t afford to bring new life into the world. And besides that, it’s kind of a two person decision and while Lee isn’t completely against the idea, he can think of many downsides. As can I. But try telling my body clock? Not even. That clock doesn’t listen to a word of reason.
Combine this with the all consuming terror I have of being pregnant and giving birth and you have one very confused Jenni. One moment I’ll be going babybabybabybabyifonlyihadababymylifewouldbeperfect and then the next I’ll be imagining with every working faculty of my Worst Case Scenario brain just how awful being pregnant would make me feel, and how I wouldn’t recognise my own changed body and how there’s this whole bit at the end where a LIVE HUMAN comes out of you, and I think that there’s no way in the world I am ever doing that. This is within a two minute time frame. And then I’ll cry because I don’t know what I want.
There’s also this whole weird thing where a lot of other people want you to have babies as well. I told my mother that another one of my school friends is pregnant and her eyes got all shiny and I just know she was thinking ‘you’ll be next’, and she already has three grandkids. I guess it’s not that weird, but it can be pressure-tastic for me. Like, I know you want to meet my future baby but don’t you understand the terror? The horrible, consuming terror?
I suspect no one is ever truly ready to get pregnant and have a baby, but I feel like I will never even be close. I wonder what life would be like if we never reproduced and I can see Lee and I happily doing what we’re doing into our forties and at the same time it scares me (is this all there is? What if I get bored?) and it also seems very easy and comforting. We *know* how to do this bit after all, we function fine without kids. That is when I’m not an emotional hormone wreckage puddling on the floor.
Being a grown up is hard. Anyone want to go back to high school with me? I’d be awesome at those 1000 word essays now.
And you can blame Dooce for this unusual outburst of crazy from me, I’ve been reading her book as well as having a hormonal breakdown.