We kicked off the Memorial Day weekend yesterday by going on a picnic with a bunch of my lady’s friends and coworkers. To get to the point, wow, there were so many babies! And a couple of pregnant young women as well. Now, why am I suddenly talking about this as if it’s such a big deal? Well, obviously it is not a big deal, really. However, for those who do not know me, I spent my entire life not being exactly maternal.
A bit of background. I am an only child, and so is my Mother. Meaning, I was never surrounded by babies or even had sibling-type relationships growing up. As life went on, I dedicated nearly 100% of my attention to academics and classical music, with occasional friendships thrown in here and there. Since I tended to attract cynical, sarcastic types as friends in the past, “maternal” or even “loving” were not exactly the top qualities that were valued. Thus, either by nature or by nurture, I started to accept the apparent reality of not having this maternal gene or whatever it may be.
Now, I’m not saying that some kind of a “biological clock” started ticking or that something “kicked in” all of a sudden. In fact, I have no desire ever to get pregnant myself, but I have started becoming fascinated with the idea of being a mother one day. Soon. You see, my partner is somewhat of my opposite when it comes to this maternal business. She is so warm and caring, has plenty of experience with babies, and most importantly really wants to give birth to our child. Solely based on the fact that we have been together for over six years, I have changed for the better. I have opened myself up to vulnerability and a deeper level of emption. I have made my life stable financially and attained as high a level of education as I see fit to provide for a family.
This is not to say that a decent salary, a couple of advanced degrees, and a loving partner is this perfect recipe for having a baby. In fact, I eternally respect women, who are brave enough to say that having children is not for them. I have gone most of my life thinking that I am one of them. What changed? Well, surely not the fact that I went to a picnic, played with an adorable baby girl for hours, and touched a pregnant friend’s belly, feeling her unborn move underneath my hand. Maybe… I don’t know… For the first time I am having trouble articulating thoughts in writing. Perhaps because this is monumental to me. This change of desire towards something I always thought so scary. There is so much more I want to say, but I will leave off here for now. More to follow!
Until later, dear readers.