Too many things, too many things

Posted on August 17, 2010. Filed under: Pregnancy | Tags: , , , , , , |

Whoooooooooa.

It’s starting to hit me: I’m going to try to get pregnant.  As in, have a baby.  A child.  Me.  Have one of those.

What’s the big deal? Everyone has kiddos, right? It’s only 9 months, boom, you’re a mama, you figure it out as you go along, get support wherever you can, blah-dee-blah.

NO! This is heavy stuff. I swore off marriage and kids for years. Then, I wanted kids. That biological clock – that’s so real!  And we had always talked about starting to “try” after my 35th birthday, and since that’s at the end of August, we meant trying in September. We happened to schedule our somewhat delayed honeymoon in September. And I just magically happen to have the last pill in my birth control pill pack recently which times conception at the ideal time… in September.

September. As in, a few weeks from now. D’oh!

This will be somewhat incongruent, I know, but stay with me… Do you know that scene from Boogie Nights where Honey-Tits… what’s her character name? Julianne Moore’s character? Anyway, where that character is in the room for hours and hours with Rollergirl doing cocaine and she just paces and paces and keeps saying, “Too many things, too many things, too many things…”? Well, I’ve been having a few of those moments in the last 24 hours around this concept of finally facing being pregnant and having kids in the VERY near future. My mind is racing, my heart rate accelerates, my anxiety creeps up.

(I TOLD you it was going to be incongruent, so don’t be weirded out that I just presented getting pregnant as an analogy to a coke scene in a coming-of-age tale set in the porn industry in 1970s San Fernando Valley.)

Anyway.

I’ve been wanting this a LONG time. For the record, my reasons are:

1. I’m a woman, a member of the half of the species who can actually do this. So, if I don’t, well… I might as well be a man.

2. Coming out of my 20s, it’s less and less about ME.  I started looking outward a bit, recognizing family more. In my 20s, I desperately tried to get away from family. Now I want back in, I see the value, and I want to contribute. I want to recreate the wonderful family parties I went to when I was a kid – I want to do it with the next generation, with my brother’s kids (someday), with my cousins’ kids. Promote and share all that quirkiness with another generation!

3. I love my parents. I want what’s best for them. I think being grandparents would actually be good for them – keep them young and active, keep them sharp, lend a lot to their quality of life. And there is so much history they have, and my own grandparents have, that should not be lost with me. I grew up in a story-telling tradition, and I need someone else to know about my mom coming to America, my dad’s experience as a fire fighter, my grandma’s stories, my grandpa’s love. That rich history needs to be told again, and added to.

4. Finally, I truly feel like I should make – create – produce! – progressive people to counter the rabid conservatism and right-wing nuts that are all over the place. They seem to procreate like rabbits (and oh look at that, another teen pregnancy out of wedlock, surprise surprise, is the Hypocrisy Arrow pointing that way again?!). Oh yes: You’d better believe I’m carting that baby to gay marriage rallies and when the kid is older, we’ll make signs together to take to anti-war demonstrations. People are quick to point out that my kids may very well choose to be the Alex P. Keaton’s of their time, but NOT IF I CAN HELP IT.

Um, so what was I saying?

Oh yeah, I’m a little freaked out that I’m going to be trying this soon. Look, I’m not a complete loon. I’m totally well-balanced, well-educated, well-funded, well-loved, and just plain well, as in health. I’m just freaking out a wee bit.

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