For these past couple months, there have been these subtle nudges by my hormones that have threatened to totally upend my sense of balance and happiness with life.
I thought that my mere will and desire to remain child-free could outwit biology. Unfortunately, my body has other ideas and has begun a kind of mental and physical warfare to try to break me down and succumb to evolution.
It started innocently enough when pictures of babies started to make me smile. Then, I began to get a strong urge to pick up my friend's babies and hold them for a little bit. I thought, "No big deal. Babies are cute. Even cuter when you can hand them back to their mom and dad."
I did my own version of a support group by reading child-free blogs and related stories. I'd toast myself for being able to spontaneously meet up for a drink and intelligent conversation at my favorite bar for a drink with friends, something I know would be almost impossible with a child.
Still, I found the topic creeping into conversations. I questioned Matt worriedly over dinner while out for "date night" about how he really felt about us not having kids. I started worrying that maybe I was being defective in not wanting to have kids.
Then the dreams started. I went from daytime worrying to the line of questioning continuing well into my dreams about whether I still thought not having a kid was a good idea. Half the dreams left me with a defeatist attitude of, "Well, maybe I should just give in and do it."
Then this week, I held our friend's 3-month old son. Suddenly, I didn't care that he looked like he wanted to spit up all over me. I walked around, lightly swaying him in my arms, as he looked around interestedly. Unlike other times I've been near babies, he didn't cry or give me dirty looks. For a moment, I thought, "Wow. This is kind of cool."
Then his 1 and a half year old brother let loose an ear piercing shriek that sent all my maternal urges into hiding for at least a few weeks.
I suspect this relief is temporary and am trying to steel myself against the future onslaught of urges to reproduce. Wish me well.
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