A very long time ago, just before the wedding, I got told just as I was about to go into life saving surgery, that due to the nature of the surgery I wouldn’t be able to safely carry or deliver a baby.
At the time I was busy getting over the shock of the op and prepping for the wedding that it was just another bit of news that I took in.
I have been waiting for a reaction since that day. It’s the kind of thing that as a woman you know you should have a reaction.
Surely we are here with our functional uterus to provide a next generation etc etc and society does ‘expect’ that a mid..sorry, late 30’s woman to have a child or have plans of having children.
I have tried to donate my eggs too, as I know there are ladies out there who will go through hell and high water to get a child.
I’m sad to say that I was too heavy for that procedure, even though I had hundreds of healthy, plump eggs, ready for harvest. That was sad (I’d had to go through quite a painful scan before they realised I was overweight…that was odd). It’s kind of waste a of resources.
I’ve also had the best gesture in the world from my sister who has offerred to bake a genetic baby for us (donated stuff from me and hubby, she does the hard work). I can’t honestly tell you how awesome that offer is. I mean she hates pregnancy and labour scares the God damn Willies out of her, but she’d do that for me. That means SO much. But even with that option, not feeling the need to jump on it.
Everyone (‘everyone’.. you know, its not literally every single person I know, but seems it) is popping out bubbas or second bubbas.
Even this is not provoking a reaction.
I truly believe I’m ok with it all.
Then. I watch that damn programme.
Most of the time I watch with a proper squished up face of horror, thinking ‘Thank God I never have to go through that’. I invest with the parents/grandparents/ nurses etc and enjoy the storyline and cringe at the actual birth…
Then they do that shot of the baby all cleaned up and laying on mum and it just does a face. It makes my ovaries pop. I then know I’m never going to experience anything like that. I do have a little moment. Maybe a twinge of regret? I don’t know.
Now some people would say ‘why the hell do you do this you yourself???’
And you know, I don’t know.
It’s a joy to actually share it with people I don’t know. I can only imagine what it is like in reality… I was my sister’s birthing partner for her number one, so I ‘know’ what it’s like to be there, but not to physically go through it all.
I’m still not upset.
I am an aunty to a great bunch. It’s an important job. I take it seriously. I love those kids.
So. What is wrong with me? Is anything wrong with me? Is it just I am aware of society expectations and pressures??
I do get a thing from other mums when you mention you have no kids and won’t be having kids. A small touch on the arm and a look. I know I will never be in the club.
It’s ok. I appreciate that it can be seen as sad and ‘not fulfilling’ my potential.
I am ok. My husband and I are ok. Thank you for your care, but really, I am ok.
I am a woman. I kick arse like a woman. I dont need a smaller version of me to validate my worth.
I will continue to watch the programme and have those little moments. And it will continue to be ok.
I dont need to feel bad that I don’t feel bad.
Anyway, once I’ve finally bought the house, hubby says I can get a rat. This has caused some mad and deep conversations about responsibility for another life.
There you go… Life is a bloody funny thing!! I have just forgiven myself for not conforming to yet another society expectation. (Anyone who knows me knows my lack of conforming..I’m guessing this is hardly news to any of them!)
Huzzah for me. Innit.
(This has come out of no where, just needed to write it down, its great this blogging thing.)