10 years, and 3 minutes later…
Just last week in a box I haven’t opened in years, I found a little denim hat, a onesie, a bib and a photo frame with two tiny baby shoes dangling from blue ribbons.
I’m sure I somehow never remembered to stick this stuff into a gift bag and give the package to its intended owner. Of course, I don’t even remember which colleague it was probably for, at this point. And perhaps when I packed up this box before I left D.C., I figured this was the closest thing I’d have to a hope chest.
When I rediscovered this stuff, I started thinking about my cycle. Rather, I noticed the absence of it. Just what I need right now — no job AND a kid. Oy!
I haven’t needed one of those wonderful little tests for a couple of months shy of a decade. And let me tell you, it is the LONGEST three minutes of your life after you pee on a stick.
I wasn’t necessarily thinking it would turn out any other way than it did. Frankly, I should send a thank-you to Loestrin, for keeping me kid-free for 10 years and counting.
I didn’t necessarily have any fantasies about “what if.” Don’t get me wrong, though. Even though I am not mother material, I wasn’t going to go to the neighborhood clinic this time. In fact, my reaction was more, “If that’s what’s meant to be, I’ll figure it out.”
That was pretty much the extent of my thought process. A hearty “Fuck you!” to the insurance industry and to people who can block your access to it, and a depressed, “Well, shit — Mom will NEVER leave now.” Oh, and don’t forget a, “How bad are wine and cigarettes in the early stages?”
I’m OK. No big deal. The only real “meh” feeling I have is that I’m no more stable now than I was 10 years ago. Career, family and love lives still have orange cones around them and a Hazmat suit at the entrance.
If anything, what I’m feeling is that I’ve simply run out of time. The only reason I ever would want to have a kid is to counteract the terrible people with offspring so that I can bring a wonderful human being in to cancel out the assholes-in-training of the world.
Anyway, perhaps this entry is ill-thought-out (see also: career, home and love lives). But I’m rather proud of myself for leaving it in God’s hands and telling Him I’d be OK either way. The outcome is the best one, and I hope it wasn’t merely sheer force of will that produced that negative sign.
Lesson learned here, kids, besides “take your pills and you’ll be fine”?
Simple. This reminds me to NOT waste my time on “opportunities” that won’t get me to wherever I want to go. Life is short, time is precious and God has quite a sense of humor. No sense in being as frivolous with time as I am with money.
That means write those books, open that cafe, volunteer outside your field to keep your heart alive, and for God’s sake LISTEN to your intuition and don’t go where your gut is SCREAMING at you not to go.
The way I figure, any moron can conceive/rear a child. (Case in point: look around.) That wouldn’t make me special. But giving a kid a whole pile of reasons to be proud of you? Well, most of us aren’t there yet. But I will be. Just give me some more time. 🙂
In any case, if ever there is another occasion to stop in the store and buy one of those thingies, I hope my next reaction will be worlds away from indifference.