(Day 21) Mother May I?

August 7, 2009

Yesterday, I read Heather Armstrong’s (aka dooce) harrowing account of the delivery of her second child. I got turned on to Armstrong’s blog about a year ago and have read it regularly ever since. I find it a bit addictive. Or at least I did when I first clicked onto it. I flipped back in time through her archives, starting at the beginning, and tried to work my way up to the present. I still haven’t gone through all of the archives but I do click on her site a few times a week, if not daily, to check in and see what she and her family are up to.

I love checking out other people’s blogs. So many of them float out there in cyberspace, in fact, it can be dizzying. When time permits (and even when it doesn’t, actually) I love to visit a blog I really like then click on a few of their favourite blogs listed in their blogroll. A blogroll, if you’re not familiar with the term, is a place on someone’s blog where they list the names of other blogs they really like. I plan to start one in the very near future. Not everyone has a blogroll, but I tell you… I’ve discovered some of the most amazing blogs this way. I’ve clicked on a few I think are real swell. But I’ve also found some that have made me sigh with delight. Okay, I’m getting off track…

Now, Dooce is a mommy blog, as is another one of my daily hits, Mommy X. There are a lot of  great “mommy blogs” out there. But the thing is, I’m not a mommy. And, every once in awhile, the mommy bloggers will write about events, products or insights, that as much as I can appreciate, simply do not apply to me.

Hello my name is Kim. I’m a 43 year old woman without children.

Not quite as shocking a statement as it used to be, maybe, unless your my mother…

There are many women who’ve decided, for whatever reason, to not have children at this point in their lives, whether by choice or by circumstance. The reasons will vary for each of us as will the emotional attachments to those decisions. I can only talk about my own feelings on the subject.

Maybe you’re beginning to realize, if you’ve read through my posts, I’ve not made a lot of solid decisions in my life. When I was in my mid-teens and through my early twenties I was certain I’d become part of the motherhood. I fantasized about it, sometimes, trying to imagine what it would feel like having my tummy grow with a new life inside of me. I craved that feeling. I expected it would happen sooner than later, too. But the older I got and the less prepared I was to bring a baby into the world, the farther  away my realizing that craving got pushed. I woke up one day and noticed my thoughts on the matter had changed. I think it was a combination of things like watching the news (gulf wars, race riots, school violence, shrinking ozone layers, depleted rain forests etc etc etc), and the fact that I hadn’t had even a date in several years, that started shifting my way of thinking. I thought about how difficult life could be at times. How hard it was for me to understand myself and those around me and to be understood in return. I wondered if I was really prepared to put another being into that atmosphere. I suppose I’ll never really know, but, I suspect as a parent you have to try not looking at those things. Don’t get me wrong. Life, as I see it, is not all about the heaviness. I’m able to see and feel a lot of positive energy swirling out there most of the time. I truly do. But those things frightened me and affected my way of seeing myself as a parent. I’ve been in a pretty solid relationship for many years now and we both feel parenthood is something we would avoid.

That being said, I still have moments here and there when I waffle back and forth within myself about it. My chances of having a child are extremely thin. Just take my word for it. The waffling now is not so much about what I would choose to do to become a mother but rather, what I can no longer do. For the most part I’m okay with that. Really. Some of my friends and family have the best kids on the planet and when I need a fix I just start knocking on their doors. But every once in a while I get a niggling feeling, pretty much in the same place inside my gut where those cravings occurred, that I’ve missed out on something.

So, yesterday when I finally sat down to Heather Armstrong’s painfully detailed desctiption of her experience of giving birth to her daughter, and it wasn’t always pretty, there was that small part left inside of myself that secretly wished it was me.


2 Responses to “(Day 21) Mother May I?”

  1. Mommy X said

    You are so beautiful and honest…

  2. marika said

    I soooo hear you on that one……

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