I’ve always been curious about pregnancy for as long as I can remember. I know I’ve told you before that I always wanted to be a mum and that’s true but its more than that. I’ve always wanted to carry a baby. That’s why the whole adoption thing isn’t really working for me as an option. I feel selfish, but I wonder if I’d resent the child because I hadn’t been able to carry it. That makes me a bad person saying that out loud. I’m sure there are many who would say if genetics matters to me that much maybe I’m not fit to be a mother anyway, but here I’d rather admit that openly than be faced with a the prospect of adopting a child when I’m not comfortable with the idea.
Understand me: I know there is more than one way to make a family: adoption, surrogacy, egg and/or sperm donation…. all of them are just as valid. Its all about picking the options that will work for me personally. I’m not going to discuss these options in great detail. I’m not an expert and it would seem kind of rude to those who have done much more research and are going through or have been through any of these. If you want to know more, checkout Mel’s blog roll. You’ll be sure to find someone soooo much more informed than me. I’m only telling you my initial feelings. Ok my feelings as they are right now, after my initial period of mourning… the fact that I have to face these decisions at all… something which for me has been over 2 years stuck in dark depression hell. I can hear my mother right now “you’re such a drama queen, Ali.” and my only answer to that is “actually, yeah, I may be… but when your world comes crashing down around you, everyone reacts and comes to terms with it in there own way.” There’s no formula for it, and you shouldn’t have to feel bad or make excuses especially to your mum. You take the time you need – end of. In my case, you thank your lucky stars when you finally feel able to try and move forward.
I may seem uncaring, but I’m not gonna talk about Kayak Man’s views either. Because if he wants to tell you maybe he should be the one to write about it… and secondly I figure I have to workout my own options first before we figure out if there’s common ground there. I’ll only tell you that the man wants to be a dad, and knowing that to be with me potentially he has to give up being a father. Hurts so bad sometimes I think he should cut his losses and move on.
Its funny you learn a lot about yourself when you’re forced to think about these things. For me, I want to carry a child. Yeah, as strange as it sounds, I WANT to be pregnant and I’m under no illusions that it will be nine months of the most wonderful happy fulfilling time. I’m under no false impression that I’d be glowing for nine months or have a quick easy birth. No sir. I have a heart condition. I already deal with insomnia and fatigue. Pregnancy would be potentially complicated; most likely more hard days than good ones. I know that and still I long to see those two lines. I’d risk my life for it. I’m not saying that in a melodramatic way. I’ve really thought about this. It’s a simple fact. That the thing that really surprised me is that its not actually about genetics. Admittedly, of course, in an ideal situation the baby inside me would be mine and my partners: biological child, but if not I can live with that. Egg donation / sperm donation I can deal with, but tell me I can’t be knocked up and the way i feel right now… I’d rather not have kids at all. Is that weird? Will I change my mind at some point? I have no idea and I reserve the right to change my opinion. Nothing is set in stone here.
When I was a kid, pregnancy freaked me out. I mean the idea of a person growing inside you – actually growing in your tummy – Ewwwwww… and worse, the thing takes over your whole body it changes things.,, and basically it takes what it needs: nutrients, vitamins, whatever. You better put it there in your blood or else its just gonna strip them from your body… your bones… whatever… why is it that this image reminds me of Kayak Man returning home to visit his parents for the weekend…having laundry done… raiding EVERYTHING from his moms kitchen cupboards, taking food… random kitchen appliances and anything else that catches his eye and then leaving again devastation in his wake. This almost 30 years after the pregnancy is over. Whoo he’s gonna kill me for “almost 30”… Aherm where was I…
Oh yeah… pregnancy… freaking me out… well, look, I’m big on control. When you carry a child, you have NO control. That freaks me OUT, but umm it’s kind of that same freak out feeling I get waiting in line for a rollercoaster. Yeah, I’m shaking. Yeah I’m freaked… I maybe even feel sick… hell IS IT MY TURN YET!!????! Soooo exciting… aherm… yeah… don’t talk to me about “people with heart conditions should not ride”… Not listening!
It’s like driving by a car wreck – people always slow down… they always look. It’s curiosity… morbid curiosity. I feel that way about being pregnant: so curious… so… soo many questions… so much I want to feel and experience. I NEED TO KNOW!!!