I go back and forth about kids. I love my nephew. Want HIM as my kid. Jonathan’s cousins kids? Love them. Want THEM as my kids.
I may have kids, but we may adopt. Haven’t decided. Saw a woman waddle today…that looked unfun. Maybe I DON’T wanna have kids.
Anyway, back and forth back and forth.
I know I am gonna be 35 soon, I know. I know lots of things. I don’t want to be bitched slapped with them.
I go to the doctor. She tells me I need to lose weight. No shit. Then she tells me if I wanna have kids, I need to do it soon. Want to avoid the double pregnancy whammy of ‘old age’ and weight.
Now, I like me. I liked my body more before I moved in with Jonathan, became sedentary and gained weight (totally common in relationships…working on that). This didn’t mean I didn’t like who I was…but moving in with Jonathan I gained…20 lbs? More? Dunno.
Anyway, I went to the doctor, she told me this. I was calm. Ish. Calm-ISH. I never really thought I’d flip, but Jonathan came home and I FREAKED. THE FUCK. OUT. FREAKED OUT. I mean…look…someone just told me I had to be miserable (super low calorie count) for a few YEARS to have kids. AND I DON’T KNOW IF I WANT KIDS, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU! She’s a doctor, I get that, and she is right, I GET THAT, but…you know what it is? You are my age. You get engaged and ALREADY you’re supposed to be having kids because your eggs are withering up and dying. WELL EXCUSE ME. I never SAID I wanted kids. Just because I have ovaries does NOT mean I have to use them!
Why is everything about marriage and kids? What the hell? Just because I am getting married does not mean I automatically want to be a baby maker. Yes, I am 33, and YES, I may not be able to MAKE my own soon. SO WHAT? Fat people have babies all the time. Yes, they may not have my doctor (and they may even be much larger) and I know I KNOW, I shouldn’t compound the issue…
Jonathan is a trooper. I cried. A lot. And I screamed. SCREAMED. Well, not really. Mostly a lot of yelling. A lot of “I WILL NOT GO ON SOME PAINFUL DIET BECAUSE SOCIETY THINKS I SHOULD HAVE SOME LITTLE PARASITE SUCKING OFF MY BODY!”
For those of you who think I have to put up with a lot RE: Jonathan, you would be wrong. He mostly has to put up with me. A lot. He is a great, amazing, wonderful guy.
What makes me saddest is that Jonathan wants kids. He says he doesn’t want them more than me, and I, mostly, believe him. But he would make such a great dad. Readers, there are times when I would leave him (Jonathan) just so he could find a woman whose ovaries are primed and ready for his deposit. So he could have daughters and spoil them, and sons to whom he would be a much better father than his own. But I won’t walk out the door, because my leaving won’t guarantee he will find another woman and won’t guarantee he’ll be a dad.
All I can give him is my neurosis and my “maybe”. Tomorrow we are rearranging the bedroom so I can watch TV while I run on the treadmill (my issues with treadmills are BORE. DOM). I am working on it. Still, no promises.