To Mommy or Not To Mommy

I don’t know if I should have a baby and when I say I don’t know I mean I have no idea. I know I should go with my gut. Sure, fine, I’ll do that. I’ll have a baby tomorrow and let you borrow him or her for six months out of the year because my gut is split right up the middle. The middle I tell you. There is not an extra ounce on either side of the decision and it is driving me nuts.

Maybe not knowing means you don’t want to and that’s the answer. Sure, maybe.

Maybe if you don’t have a baby you’ll regret it every day of your life. Sure, maybe.

Maybe the fertility specialist I’m seeing who has scared the shit out of me about the six things wrong with my blood and my body and my thyroid will be the key to my ultimate happiness. Right now though she’s just the shit scarer outer and she’s doing a damn fine job.

Here’s the thing, I’m almost forty. I’m used to the freedom in my life which is charming and full of love thank you very much.

Here’s another thing, I feel that there is something missing and I’m not sure if that’s because I can’t ever cut myself a fucking break about anything or if there really is something missing.

Did you see that? I used the f word. What kind of mother would I be anyway?

Can you have a happy life without kids?

Can it have meaning?

Can I pay someone to wipe my ass when I’m a hundred and there’s no first born beauty to take care of my wrinkles?

I. Don’t. Know.

And how about all of the talk that has come my way in the last week. You need to fix your sugar which has you insulin resistant. You need to lose weight. You need to have a biopsy of your uterus to be sure it’s healthy for a baby. What?? I don’t wanna. I don’t want a straw stuck up there to suction out a piece of my insides for something I’m not 100% on. And oh yeah, I’m a huge chicken so there’s that.

God life feels weird as a thirty-nine year old woman without a kid. People posting adorable pics of their kids doing a million things and I’m photographing my perfume tray for Instagram because it’s one of my favorite things. Is that ok? Is it ok that my fridge doesn’t have construction paper masterpieces covering it under pictures of toothless grinning cuteness?

Some days I want to ask some of my friends who have kids about maybe not having them but I can’t. It’s too weird. They’ve said cheers to a Kool Aid I’m not allowed to drink yet. I’m not knocking it because I’m pretty sure I’d be the same way but it’s hard. I feel tremendously lonely and although I discuss it with my husband, I wish I could talk to a woman about it. Better yet, I wish I could talk to an objective woman about it who barely knows me so she can’t explain to me how cute my dad would look holding my son.

Man I need a therapist and a break. I need to get away from all of the chatter about how high my thyroid antibodies are and how that increases my chances for a miscarriage and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Yeah, the doc said that. 1 point for honesty and 17 for scaring the shit out of me. I think once I hit 30 points I get my own ultrasound machine so I can use that wand anytime I want. I hate that machine and I hate the bird mobile I have to look at it every time they use it as I shift in discomfort while they tell me how small my ovaries are. Jesus.

I miss the days of hanging out with friends over dinner with glasses of wine discussing work or men or co-workers or my latest highlights. Is that wrong? Is it selfish to want that? Is it weird that I feel totally lost when someone tells me they’re pregnant. I mean, it’s wonderful and then I just tip my hat and walk away once I offer a congratulations. They’ll soon disappear anyways and I’ll be standing in the same spot trying to justify my life and figure it out and enjoy it before I fritter it away wondering if I should be knee deep in diapers.

WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO AND WHY DONT I KNOW?

I like kids. I think babies are cute. I am enamored by tiny toes and shoes and pink ribbon barrettes. I just don’t feel a burning need to have them in my own home and yet am afraid to let go of the possibility.

Help me.

Tell me what to do.

Tell me that if I don’t have a kid I won’t always feels lost out there sitting behind a plexiglass partition watching the folks I used to know teach their kids how to ride a bike. I hate that partition and I’m not sure if I’m behind it because I put myself there or if I no longer count when I’m not toting around a toddler.

Oh the angst I feel. I’m telling you it drives me nuts.

Just tonight I took my first dose of progesterone to regulate my cycle and then googled the side effects of not ovulating. Who am I? Where’s my trash TV and Chunky Monkey? And where’s my Magic 8 Ball? Maybe that can help me decide. (Somewhere my Mom just read that and let out an exasperated sigh). I don’t blame her. I’m making this so hard for myself it’s ridiculous.

I just wish I knew.

Why don’t I know?

I should know right?

Did you know?

Did you not and just wing it?

Can you be my life coach?

And maybe my midwife?

Maybe.

Jesus.

Learning How To Live

Running and careening and gripping at the sky

As tumbleweeds and bygone friends

Sigh and pass you by

Skipping over stones

Lunging over cracks

Dropping so much heavy

Behind you in your tracks

Covered up in glitter

Ambition used as glue

Finally understanding

The one to please is you

Orchestrating, conducting, an ensemble or a solo

Trying every single street

With the only truth that you know

Looking leads to finding

Believing helps you dream

Not all of what you thought was real

Is as daunting as it seems

The mountain is the summit

The sun there all along

The moments where you felt most weak

Were when you were most strong

Continuing to climb

Confined to only dark

Not knowing it was in that moment

You began to leave your mark

The steps you took were measured

Cautious and unsure

One and then the other

Hoping there was more

Finally in a clearing

Arms out open wide

Feeling almost weightless

Expecting now to fly

The burdens that you carried

And long ago sat down

Took root along your path

And grew from broken ground

Stepping off the mountain

Ready to take flight

They rise to meet your feet

And support your newfound might

Looking leads to finding

Believing helps you dream

This life is yours for living

And it’s bursting at the seams

I Am Yours

First
There was up
And then
There was down
I reached to the heavens
And
Crawled on the ground
Mistakes they were mighty
Successes were few
I puffed up my chest
Too stubborn to move
I pushed at the wall
I leaned on the light
I stood on the track
About to take flight
Stuck in my shoes
I walked in my socks
I thought both inside of
And
Outside the box
Roaming the sidewalks
Scaling the mountains
Swinging from sentiment
Swimming in fountains
Not sure where to go
Or how to belong
The struggle I felt
When weak and when strong
I opened up wide
I closed myself down
I forgot about sky
Melting over and down
Questions they tumbled
Over highs and my lows
Answers arriving in dreams
And in prose
I was light
I was heavy
I was smart
I was moored
I was what I was
And now I am yours