Tuesday, July 28, 2015

What If a Baby Happens?


My whole life, I've felt like I wasn't meant to be a mom. When I was a kid my cousins and I played make-believe house, and we always had pets and animals, but I don't remember lots of pretend people babies. My Barbies were always out on dates with GI Joe; they were never really home with their families. I grew up in a home day care, and I loved playing with the kids my mom watched, but they were definitely more of a fun accessory than something I wanted to take care of. I liked being able to play with them until they cried. I liked pushing them in the stroller at the mall. I liked to dress them in goofy outfits with my friends.

Thinking about it now, by the way, Barbie was really just such a hussy.

I've just always felt I was meant to do other things with my life than raise a child. I've felt I was meant to go new places, to see new things. I've felt I was meant to do something else, to make waves, to live in the moment. Kids have always been something I don't want. And I've really never swayed from that. I've just preferred more...well, more interchangeable accessories. I get bored of my purse in like 90 days, and I hear you can't trade kids in for an upgrade.


But then...what if??

Day Two of my 30 Day Blog ChallengeWhat is something you always say "what if" to?

What if I get pregnant on accident?

What if I change my mind? What if I get pregnant on purpose?

What if I watch all these other women mom-ing (yes, I made that a verb), and I think I could do it as well as any of them? What if I decide that mom-ing doesn't mean your life of excitement and passion is over?

What if I tell my family I might want a baby someday, and they all actually die of shock? With them all wiped out, who would help me?

What if I miss my period and totally freak out and have myself completely convinced I'm pregnant, and then what if for a brief second, I'm not completely horrified at the thought? What if a part of me reacts with, that might not really be so horrible?

What if a doctor confirms that I am unable to make a baby of my own and I'm sad instead of relieved? I mean, I have't been on any birth control in almost two years, and I'm not knocked up yet.

Then what?


I have always said, being a mom is not in my cards. Always. I've never wanted to mom. I've been too busy wanting to travel, to work and get promoted, to grow, to learn. I've been too consumed with my desire to live just for myself, to spend money selfishly, to spend time on myself. My desire to sit in silence with a stack of books has far outweighed my need to change diapers in the middle of the night.

And yet, this is the subject in which I always wonder, what if.

Despite the fact that I don't actually have a desire to parent a child, I do believe I'd be a really good mom, should I ever become one - accidentally or on purpose. Aside from the fact that my mother is the actual Baby Whisperer, and aside from the fact that I was raised in a home where she cared for a multitude of small children at a time, I think instinctively I would be good at mom-ing. I never thought that before until recently. I always thought I'd be overly paranoid about things, overly aggressive about others, and just overly selfish in all areas where a good parent is selfless instead.


Even so, I claim to be selfish with time and money, as I sit here on the phone with Blake, making a birthday ice cream date and ordering his new Spider-Man sheets on Amazon. I'm apparently not that selfish with my time and money; I always have time for the people in my life under five years old. I call them on the phone, I buy them things, I take them places...and I do all of these things on purpose.

Clearly being a mother is not the same as being an aunt. I'm just using this as an example of my ability to keep a child safe, fed, and happy for a duration of time, thus my assumption that I may be able to do it for longer than a weekend.


More recently than I care to admit, I had to ask myself the big question among single women who try to be careful but sometimes fuck up: what if I'm pregnant?

What would I do?

And by what would I do, I do of course mean, what bridge would I choose to free fall from?

And after much freak out, after much frantic time spent on the phone (and sadly, also on WebMD), after much calming the fuck down, it occurred to me that you can plan your life a certain way all you want. But as I learned from that fucking life-ruining psychic in Vegas this spring, the Universe will find a way to work your shit out for you. You can plan all you want, but sometimes, shit just happens and you have to learn to roll with it.


What if you just calm down, let life happen, and be flexible in your choices?

Also, what if you happen to make a baby that just goes perfectly with that new dress you just bought?

#Accessorize!!