Day 2 of Doing Me.

Embrace the haters.

It might be the 21^st Century. It might be the era of technology. It might be the age of equality for all. It might be the time for opportunities. It might be the best generation. On the other hand, there are a lot of downsides to this golden age.

 

This is an observation about one thing in particular. A pressure that I feel every single day. Something that happens around me, something that is spoken about regularly, something that is no one else’s business.

 

I’m talking about babies.

 

I come from a family of baby machines. I have 18 first cousins. I don’t bother with my second cousins because there are too many. There are currently 7 babies under the age of 2 in my immediate family. My Grandma is now a Great Grandma at the ripe age of 70.

 

I am 27 years old and in a long term relationship. I am terrified at the thought of babies.

I have always been afraid of them. They cry as soon as I hold them. Their poop is so disgusting. I think they are quite ugly when they are so young. Then they get to an age where they can throw tantrums and scream their frustration at you. They whack you in the face because you are not their Mum. The pee their pants or crap on the lawn because they can. They ask why you are so fat.

 

I worry about the fact that I do not seem to have developed any maternal feelings. Am I less of a woman because I’m not clucky? Is there something wrong with me when I feel nothing but mild anxiety when I look at or hold a newborn? Am I selfish or strange because I am much more excited about the thought of building a career, than I am about watching a teacup human grow up?

 

I am constantly being asked about when I am going to start a family.  My Mother-In-Law to be is always dropping hints and telling my boyfriend off for not providing her with grandbabies yet (even though she has 5 from her other children). My cousin, aged 22, has three babies trailing behind her and is always looking at my ring finger and asking when I’m going to start popping them out. Day by day, I see articles written about freezing eggs, my womb shrivelling up, the perfect age to have babies and “How do they do it” power women profiles.

What If I don’t have babies? Will I always be satisfied? Will I suddenly get the urge down the track and it will be too late? Will I decide to have babies late and have a pregnancy or a baby fraught with health problems? Will I want babies but have no one in my life to share them with?

What if I have a girl and pass on my anxiety, OCD & Depression tendencies to her? What if I have a boy and don’t know how to look after him? What if my children are bullied or diagnosed with learning disabilities? What if they die?

 

Right now it just seems a lot easier to go on living my selfish life. The one where I sleep in, make myself coffee and then spend 3 hours reading a book. The one where I attempt to do some mild housework before applying my face and meeting a friend for shopping and coffee. The one where I sail into work and negotiate meetings and rates with powerful clients, before heading home and having noodles for dinner followed by binge watching my choice of television. The one where I spontaneously visit New York for a week or go camping on a weekend or have a girls night out complete with drunkenly texting my boyfriend to pick me up from a nightclub/jail/strip club/casino.

You see? I really don’t have time for a baby at the moment. So back off and stop making me feel less of a person because I haven't ticked off some imaginary checklist. I’m just doing me.

Author's Note

All feedback welcomed.