Sometimes I feel like I must have the “maternal” marker on my head. When I was newly married at 23, the common question from people was “when will you have kids?” or the equally benign “do you want kids?” This snarky girl got so tired of being asked that she started to answer never.
Really, I felt like it was nobody’s business especially when we began actively trying while my Dad was dying and I wanted nothing more than to make him a Grandpa. He would have been a kick ass Grandpa by the way. Certainly, there is part of me that believes I jinxed us with the never response yet I recognize that the blessing of the divorce and the curse of the marriage was that we did not have kids.
We had one positive early on, which did not stick. It was not a miscarriage to me as it was so early and did not stick. Last year in the aftermath of the divorce with the pervasive nausea that I experienced in my grief of letting go what would never be, it was a running joke amongst friends that I was pregnant or would get pregnant.
Given my rapid approach towards 40, I chose to have my fertility tested last year as I considered freezing my eggs. Ultimately, my fertility was the same as it had been 4 years before when we started yet another attempt at a fertility treatment that I did not tolerate. I sat with the idea of freezing my eggs for 6 months and decided that was not my path.
This is not to say that I have determined that I do not want children just that the whole process of freezing my eggs was not for me.
Lately the questions have been bubbling up again. Do you have kids? Do you want kids? Mostly it comes from perfect strangers as those closest to me know that I am on the fence. I could see it happening and I can also see it not happening. I am open to it, yes, but I no longer feel like it is yet another box to check. Something I fought to achieve for years is now something that is a mere possibility.
In my 20s, I would have been a very different Mom. I would have obsessed over everything. Enjoying Merlin over the last 2 years and learning to parent him to an extent has taught me that I enjoy the mess of life more now.
Sand in our toes? Yes, please. Running thru puddles? Yes, please. Happiness matters to me more now than anything ever will. Messes are part of life. Messes mean a life enjoyed.