I have been obsessed with babies since the day we got married. Seriously. I wanted one. I mean... half of me wanted one. A crazy, obsessed, wishful half of me. The other half was totally content to enjoy our early married life... the youthfulness and freedom of young love... Waiting sounds like this gloriously mature, responsible plan that sucessful, happy people make. But then there was the crazy baby making side of me screaming to fulfill my biological obligation.I have read many articles. Many, many articles. Articles about women who don't have or want kids and are completely content in that. I try my best to think of myself like that. To imagine a life where I never have kids. It's not a terrible thought. Freedom. No strain on our finances. Not having to worry about moving or schools or medical decisions. Not having to face the trials of a child with some... differently-abled-ness. Always the two of us, my husband and I, snuggled with our fur-babies. I can see why that is appealing. I can imagine a version of myself that is happy in that life.
But that is not me. I know it isn't. Even if I wish sometimes I were like that... I'm not. And I know it. Deep in my soul, in the core of my being... is a woman with a baby in her arms. 6 babies. And two toddlers. And a Middle-schooler... and 4 teens... And three adult children. There is a women positively SURROUNDED by her flesh and blood. I cannot deny her existence. I can only compromise with her... 3 or 4 children instead of the hundreds she wishes to raise... In a few years, instead of her screaming "RIGHT NOW!!!"
Every month, every twinge, headache, sweep of nausea sets me on edge. "Is that slight pain a sign I'm pregnant? Is this itchy belly a sign of a little one growing inside me? Am I more snappy today because pregnancy has washed me in a sea of hormones?" Every. Single. Month. And every day before my period starts is one day closer to my dreams coming true. It's one more day when I might be up the spout. And... Every month... I'm disappointed.
And relieved. I can admit that my calm, rational, content-in-my-life-as-it-is side smiles when I finally see that blotch of pink. I can relax. At least for a little while I can be content in the knowledge that I'm not pregnant. I'm not on edge waiting for the ax to drop. Don't get me wrong... it's a nice stuffed toy ax that I'll be happy to raise and play with... but the anticipation of the fall puts me on edge anyway.Anyway, if you are crazy like me... each twinge and itch and tension immediately connecting you with your uterus... then you will want to know all the helpful hints I have read on how to calm the burgeoning pregnancy beast... The many forums I have read and joined... the many women feeling similar to me and you...
This is what I have learned in all my reading...YOU CAN'T. There is NO way to stop.
Face it. You're obsessed. You aren't alone in your obsession. But you are obsessed. You know what you can't fix with hopeful thinking and careful tips and hints and dietary advice?? Obsession. There isn't a pill you can take. There isn't a mantra you can chant. There isn't a thing you can do.
You are stuck to obsess until you get knocked up.
I know. It's not very helpful is it? But after all my reading and searching, all I have found are tales of commiseration. So. I commiserate. I am RIGHT. THERE. WITH YOU, SISTER!!!
I mean, yes. There are some hints out there... Like, spend time with a grumpy screaming baby... Or Think about what it's like to be stuck for 18 years, completely responsible for another human being. They don't stay babies... One day they turn into TEENS.
Or one of my personal favorites: Stop looking at baby stuff. Stop it. Stop it NOW.
And if you're anything like me, those things only help for so long. I was watching Bones (a show about solving crimes) and in an episode, the main couple is making out, headed upstairs, taking the opportunity for a little grown up alone time while the baby is sleeping. And when they're almost to the bedroom, guess who starts to yodel the song of it's people? That's right. Baby CockBlocker herself. But that scene didn't make me shudder in dread of the day when making love will be derailed by the sound of an infant... it made me long for the moment making love will result in an infant!And yes... it's a heavy thing to bear, caring for someone for 18 years and longer. But it's also incredible. You get to see a little person change into someone... JUST LIKE YOU. Or maybe not. Maybe they'll be completely different! Maybe you'll have a kid who becomes GREATER than you... doing things you've never even imagined doing. Or someone who shows you the world is bigger then your experiences. Someone who introduces you to a whole new meaning for the word "Life". I don't dread having someone to love for the rest of my life... to give my love to... That doesn't scare me.
And teens? If I'm honest, I'm looking forward to teens. They are becoming real people. I mean, I know they've always been real people. But I mean... they learn to be THEMSELVES. Something that is so... AMAZING. They learn their voice and speak it in so many ways. I don't dread having teens.
I mean, I know it's not easy and la-di-da, rose colored glasses, and C'est La Vie... But the challenges of raising a new human don't make these pregnancy hopes, these mommy desires... Go away. They just... Don't.
I've been married for 15 months and I'm no closer to reaching a truce with my inner mommy desperation then I was a year and a quarter ago. Maybe I won't be until I'm carrying the 40+ extra pounds of baby around with me, complaining about my back and my feet.
But if I can leave you with one tip that might help with longing for a baby... the only piece of advice that might actually work...
Stop looking at baby stuff. Seriously. Stop it.
