Battling baby fever
Ticking biological clocks, muddy motherhood motives, and soothing poetry š¤·š½āāļø
I donāt know the women you know but I feel like the women I know donāt really talk about reproduction or bodily autonomy as openly as they might want to ā especially Black and brown women.
Sometimes I wonder if all women know is the art of self-sabotage. I know that sounds bitchy (the full moon in Gemini has left me feeling a little sensitivo) but stick with me for a sec.
We know that the equality gap hasnāt closed much since women received voting rights a little over a century ago and in the U.S. we seem to be regressing, ahem: abortion. On the facade of it all and on your timeline, however, it looks like women can pretty much do anything they want. Iām 33. I have a good job, Iām self-sufficient, and am trying to educate myself into financial security. I donāt have a husband to hang up a mirror and do odd jobs around the house but thatās okay, I can always borrow a friendās or pay a task rabbit. I can travel when I want and buy a Marine Serre top to wear to a natural wine bar on a Friday night just because. At my age, my mum had 3 kids and was married to my dad and his extended family who enforced a strict set of cultural rules around what she could do, wear, and who she could see. So why the fuck would I ever want that?
Well hereās the curse: I do want that. Not the power-hungry mother-in-law or the āno skirtsā rule, but I do want to be a mum. Even typing it makes me feel sad because it reaffirms that right now itās not my path. Or what I thought my life would look like (see last weekās post on grieving things we think we should have).
A couple of weeks ago I was working from the Ace Hotel and bumped into a good friend and her adorable baby that looks like the poster child for babies. Iām not kidding. I have never seen anything that cute. š„ŗ My heart and ovaries exploded as I picked the little nugget up and danced her into the air as she cooed and smiled. I found myself breathing in her baby-like scent (in a non-creepy way) as her little hands wrapped around my index finger. It felt so natural. After, I was left feeling a pang in my chest. Achey. I donāt want to feel like this but I do.
For as long as I can remember itās always been this way. As a middle child between two sisters, we all helped raise one another while our parents worked. Sure, that nurturing part of me might be all I know but when I really think about it, there hasnāt been a time in my life when I didnāt want kids. As the clock ticks, I find myself being more and more desperate. Yes, women are having children well into their forties, and yes, I can freeze my eggs for a small fee (lol @ womenās healthcare weāll save that for another time !) but none of that supposed reassurance takes away from this feeling that lurks deep within me: I want to be a mother.
And believe me, as an obsessive type A, Aquarius, no one questions my motives more than I do. Iām the devil on my own shoulder: Is it because this is what all women are conditioned to want? Or maybe because so many of my friends are becoming parents? Do I wanna right some wrongs and make up for some childhood shit? Am I seeking unconditional love through another being or worse, validation from a life force that doesnāt know anything about the world yet? As Iāve sat thinking about my motives over and over again, I come back to one answer: I want to be a mother. Plain and simple.
Thankfully, we live in a world where today that can mean many different things. Sure, I could become a dog mum to a fluffy teacup yorkie or one day adopt ā there are sadly way too many children in the world that need it. Why the selfish desire then? Why are my ovaries knocking on my uterus and asking me to fill her up? LOL. Some days I wanna tune out the noise and just keep swimming.
Finally, when the voice is quiet and the waves have settled, my āwhyā becomes as clear as the moon in the morning sky. This isnāt about me. Not really. This is about legacy. This is about planting the seeds for future generations. For the chance to bring children into a world thatās one day going to be ready for their freedom. For healing the trauma of the past so that all my kids have to worry about is what Fortune 500 company theyāre gonna start instead of the colour of their skin. For a chance to change the destiny of our bloodlines and make our ancestors smile. For a chance to stop the cycle.
Thereās so much about motherhood thatās a choice. Choosing to carry a baby to term or choosing not to; which every woman should have the right to decide. PERIOD. Then thereās spiritual intervention, a child who chooses its mother. Choosing the right partner to raise that kid with. Choosing the right time. The right birth method and so on.
And sure, I could choose get knocked up by a rando or win the lottery and do IVF (all privileges in themselves), but what Iāve realized I want more than anything is a family. A chance to course correct for the women I know who were stripped of choices and every man in my family who wasnāt educated enough to know or do better.
A long time ago a friend showed me this beautiful Kahlil Gibran poem, probably right after I gave her this same rant. And as he suggests, maybe my want for children is just lifeās longing for itself. Who am I to get in the way?
Sometimes I wonder if all women know is the art of self-sabotage. Perhaps itās the only way the patriarchy will accept us.
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This is so honest. So real. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing