Oh, the inevitable has happened even to the most cynical and non-maternal of people. I blame my sister for this – she had her first child about 5 years ago and given how close I am to my sister, I am naturally, close to her kids. Five years of spending time with adorable kids (blood related) will break you down.
Let’s set the back story. I don’t like kids. I’ve never coo-ed at Anne Geddes babies. I don’t make small talk to kids in the elevator. Generally, they’re very small people, there for me to ignore. To me, they add no value to my life or my immediate moments so why even go there? Past the age of 25, I stopped naming my future kids and even in long-term relationships, the topic of “kids” is a big no-no for me. I make it very clear from the get-go that I’m not interested in having kids – they’re a bucketload of permanent responsibility and the idea of breastfeeding is absolutely gross to me. Milk comes out from there! Why!
However, and most unfortunately, nature finds a way. (Yes, I’m quoting Jurassic Park on this one). From the second half of 2011, my hormones have undergone some shifts and changes (all without consulting me, might I add) and all of a sudden there I am. Holding babies. Speaking to them in the elevators. “What a pretty dress! How old are you?”. My brain then tries to hold the words back, chastising my uterus, “What are you doing! Control yourself!”.
Research shows that a woman in her early-30s have only 12% of viable eggs left – eggs I have been steadily killing with copious amounts of alcohol every weekend. My eggs and I are literally in a “use it or lose it” Mexican standoff. The “biological clock” while metaphorical, feels strangely physical. It literally feels like phantom uterus – a tugging at your womb that can’t be just cramps. Stupid uterus. It is a completely involuntary reaction that I have no control over. It also raises a desire to have sex frequently – which I had just attributed to plain ol’ horniness. I feel somewhat gratified knowing this though, may I add.
So what’s a girl to do when the physicality of the situation takes over the mentality? I am aware a ticking biological clock isn’t necessarily the most attractive thing – it’s female equivalent of Flava Flav wearing a big clock around his neck. Are my hormones forcing me out of self-imposed bachelorhood? (Bachelorhood sounds a lot better than “spinsterhood”). Are my hormones basically telling, “Enough is enough, it’s time to grow up and be a woman already”? Do my hormones know something that I don’t? Can hormones emote to begin with?? It wasn’t bad enough to that I have my head and heart in a constant duel, now I have to add hormones to the mix?
And yes, I now have baby names. FML.
Don’t like kids? Ha, join the club. Only thing is, I’m married with a 4yr old now (whom I adore, of course) but I still don’t like surrounding myself with kids. I look for someone to rescue me every time there’s a kid’s birthday party on the weekend. Wait till you have a double whammy, both Saturday and Sunday taken up by kids’ birthday parties. Yes, I have to endure that while you’re happily killing your eggs with alcohol every weekend. I much rather do the latter. Thankfully, sometimes my hubby says, “That’s ok hun, you can rest at home for this kid’s birthday party”, to which I quietly reply, “You sure it’s fine? I can go with you if you really want me to?” (slap on a pitiful face) while inside I’m going, “Yippeeee!”. Oh! and sex after marriage and a baby while handling a full on career, well you better have “Mr Beaver” around because there won’t be much time for that lol.