I held a tiny baby the other day. Not normally something I do so I thought it was something of note. I went to visit a coworker who had her son a week ago. She’s lovely and he is so adorable. Like not the typical, all babies are cute because they’re babies schtick, but because he was so little and genuinely scoop him up and bite his minuscule cheeks handsome. Hit teeny little butt fit in the palm of my hand and when I held him there was something that felt like magic. How can someone be so small, barely seven pounds, and make such an impact? I wasn’t sure. As I sat there and watched another coworker sit with him and rock him as he slept I could see how much she already loved him. I don’t know. Maybe love is too strong a word? She was happy though. She is always one of the first to hold the babies at the office and is definitely the definition of a Momma. Caring for sure. Loves her children. Smart, savvy, hard working and genuine. Is that what I’m supposed to be?
Yes, we once again are at that place where I push on the walls of my brain to figure out where to fit or what to do. Is this how it is? Is life always like this? Maybe it’s not so bad, questioning things, trying to figure out if you should be doing more. Maybe it’s healthy. I think I’m healthy. I just wonder a lot. Like, why wasn’t that thing that mom’s have, why wasn’t that put in me? Why don’t I twist in knots over possibly not having a child? I don’t know. I don’t understand why I wasn’t given that chip, that piece, that drive. Maybe because it took so long for my husband and I to find each other, I gave up hope or locked it away or like one of those long handled wick covers you see in old timey places around the holidays, I snuffed it out?
Maybe it’s because I’m not healthy enough? Maybe a baby would wreak havoc on my insides. As of today my period is eighteen days late. I’ve had cramps almost the entire time. My boobs hurt from under one arm to the other. And they don’t know. The doctors just say there’s no real definitive test or number to determine if it’s menopause. I’m in a tricky part of life they say. Sister, you don’t know the half of it. The only way they can help me really is if I decide to go full force and have a baby and take some more extreme measures and even then they don’t know that I could conceive. On the flip side, I could close the door permanently. They could just yank out my uterus and that would fix things. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to do either thing. It’s not that simple. I wish this was less convoluted. I just want to be happy.
I love my husband. I mean like we were made for one another, holding his hand is my favorite place to be, want to crawl into his pocket when he hugs me, love him. That part of my life fits. It’s deep down, rattle my soul, lift my life and spirits and joy up and out and fill the room, good. At least I know that.
The other parts though. What to do about the other parts.
What am I supposed to do for a living? I like my job. I really like it. I’m respected, valued and enjoy what I do. I think there needs to be more though. And I have to make that more happen.
Do I go back to college?
Do I get a sewing machine and just try to play around and make something?
Do I paint?
Do I finally get in shape?
And writing. Let’s be honest. I’m not that good. And I’m not saying that in the fishing for a compliment way. I’m saying it in the I’ve tried for so long to figure out what to do with this blog and haven’t gotten really anywhere and I don’t know. I really don’t know.
Is this what life is?
You put the gremlin away and then you sit and have tea and try to woo him into liking you so you’ll like yourself?
I have grey hair.
I have grey hair and no baby and I’m not exactly sure still after all of the writing and talking and lamenting and worrying and crying what the fuck I’m supposed to be doing.
I should know by now.
Life is up and down I guess.
Life is weird I guess.
Maybe I could be a motivational speaker? I could start by reading this post. Really inspire folks.
I was off from work yesterday and today. Needed a break after working a tremendous amount of hours. The first thing I did with my freedom was go to a gluten free bakery and purchase thirty-seven dollars worth of baked goods. I’ve eaten I’d say twenty-six of it. Why do we do things like that to ourselves. Here’s a four day stretch when I can be good to myself and eat well, exercise, drink a lot of water, meditate, clean the house, figure it all out and I’m knee deep is lemon blueberry cream cheese cake worrying about why I’m so sad.
Maybe it’s the sugar.
Maybe I need to send a flyer to bakeries in the area and ask them to ban me from entering.
This post is a bummer right? Or is it just me? Maybe it’s more fun than I think. No. It isn’t. That’s ok.
And before you worry too much, I’m good. I’m just tumbling through life right now like I was stuck in the dryer. I like really warm, freshly cleaned clothes though so maybe I’ll come out of it feeling better than I did when I went in.
What if I don’t have a baby?
What if I can’t?
What if I don’t know if I want to?
What if I just embrace working a job that I’m good at and coming home and watching Bravo after sitting with my husband over dinner and discussing our day? That would be good. That would be alright.
At the end of the day I’m a believer in what’s meant to be so I’m going to go with that. I’m going to try and stop thinking so much about it. I’m going to be grateful for the wonderful things I have. I’m going to stop feeling like every mom in the room is thinking I’m a selfish loser for not having kids. I’m going to hopefully meet women who will like me and we’ll become friends and it won’t matter to them what I have or don’t because I’m a good person who would be the best kind of friend if I was given the chance.
If you don’t mind, if you’ve stuck around this long – and man you’re a trooper – I’d like to say goodnight. Well, thank you and goodnight. The gremlin has finally fallen asleep so I’m going to turn my brain off, tuck myself in and type all of the things I’m grateful for in a note on my phone before kissing my husband and falling asleep.
May tomorrow be full of peace, Kate Spade, fresh air, meditation, friendship, prosperity, abundance, gratitude and love. May the gremlin sleep in. May he not even realize I’ve gotten on with my life until I’m far enough along that not even his incessant pointing to my biological clock and lack of direction and chubby thighs and empty bakery box could deter me from having a bright and lovely day.