Mummy and Me

There’s nobody in the world quite like our mother. She cooks for us. Feeds us soup when we’re sick. Heals our wounds both physical and emotional. She worries about us uncontrollably and loves us unconditionally. She always has the answers.

I was never certain I wanted to be a mom. The idea of trying to raise children was daunting. .. frightening. And I was selfish in some ways and I knew it. I wanted a business or creative career. I wanted to travel to exotic places. I wanted to delve into my own personal projects. I wanted to pursue my own dreams.

And to my everlasting shame, I never ever wanted to experience labor.

I know I’ve mentioned my low (low) pain threshold.

I suppose the nuclear family life was always in the back of my mind filed under “eventually”. Husband, home, children (maybe 2?) and the dog (of course). Football games, piano lessons, PTA…

Maybe that’d be nice. Stability of family life. Scrapbooks of first steps and snowball fights. Braces and school dances.

The older I got the more that seemed like maybe… maybe I do want all that. Eventually. After I travel the world, build a satisfying business career, become a published writer, and spend a few years with my husband… of course.

Of course.

Things have changed again.

I have made the decision not to have children.

After being diagnosed with diabetes it has been something of a difficult question: Do we have a child or do we not accept that risk? A non diabetic woman’s body has the ability to turn itself inside out to accomplish this feat. Ours does as well but the risks are different.

It’s amazing. Little by little I began to learn what that could mean for me should I choose to go that route. I’m clearly no medical professional, and risks vary so much from person to person, but after looking at the possibilities … at what exactly could happen to myself or my baby, throwing in my own personal health history… and it just doesn’t seem like a possibility any longer.

I guess it’s a question of trust. I don’t trust my ability to keep a perfect sugar reading through pregnancy. And how could that hurt my child? How could I live with a guilt like that should something go wrong?
It’s astounding what you don’t want until you find out you can’t have it. It’s in our nature I think. To desire what is not ours to have.

Like me and egg sandwiches.

I’m so allergic to eggs.

It’s a very intimate, personal choice, this baby decision. Something each woman has to make for herself. And it’s not like there are no other options out there; surrogacy, adoption. Each with their own emotional results.

Have you ever been asked this question: “Where do you see yourself in 5 years?”

I actually hate this question. Usually it’s in reference to a career path. (what is the right answer to that, by the way? I’ve never known quite what to say)

Well , where do you see yourself in 20 years? 40 years? 50 years?

I’ve always been hazy with these imaginings. I picture me and my husband , both with white hair, our faces are fuzzy but it does appear that I am at least 100 pounds overweight.

Apparently I’m going to be fat in my old age (fat and happy I hope!).

The other thing is that I always imagine that I have grown children… with children of there own. I have to actively remove them from my little picture. When I do it seems a little empty.

I have made peace with my decision.

The pitter patter of little feet will be from Oscar (my little dachshund). Or rather Oscar IV or V or something…