Everybody’s Changing

Her name is Sam. Ordinary, plain old Sam. Or Sammy, as it will inevitably evolve into. Boston has a lot of famous Sams, so it made quasi-sense. Sam Adams. Sam Malone. Sam…there must be more Sams. But androgyny was key, for has anyone ever seen a *pretty* Boston Terrier? I mean, she’s not a pretty little thing, she’s goofy and clowny and doofy and weird, so something feminine would be so, so wrong.

I don’t think I can wait until she gets here.

I’m not obese, I promise. It’s the photos. As soon as I can take one, I will post it, if only to prove it to myself that an angle while squishing back away from cute puppy is not my best showing. And erm, to prove to all of you that I’m not scary. Because I’m not, I promise.

Separately, I had a nice chat with my therapist about babies and puppies today after a near-meltdown. Somewhere close to the entire world has told me not to get this dog, and to wait until after I have babies.* And here is a newsflash for everyone:

I’m not having babies at the moment, and if I waited for everything until “after I had babies” than I would be basically putting my life on hold until I was ready, which would totally negate the point of waiting to have kids. If I’m not going to LIVE until I have them, then why not just have them now? I’m just sayin’. And sure, I could change my mind soon and feel wonderfully settled and all that good stuff, but can I just say that I HAVE HAD ENOUGH CHANGE FOR A LITTLE WHILE. I moved to another, really hot state. I got a new job. I still know four people within a 70-mile radiousso if everyone (including me) could just CALM DOWN about my uterus, that would be great.

I realize how bizarrely ambivalent I’m being about this. Hello, it’s me, Mixed Messages, nice to meet you.

I have been panicked about Baby Stuff since I turned 30. I live in (irrational) fear that my childbearing years are waning considerably (stop laughing), and if I don’t get pregnant SOON, then I won’t be able to have more than one and my single child will turn into a self-centered freak who murders people from atop a bell tower because she never learned how to share and the world is just such a cruel and unsharing world, and she never had a sister, so how on earth could she learn to share and GOODBYE CRUEL WORLD.

Add all of this to the fact that someone I know recently gave me a giant lecture that she doesn’t think that “older” mothers should exist because they are too tired to handle their kids properly. And then there was another acquaintance, parroting in everyone’s ear, “Well so-and-so was 35 when she had BillyBob and they don’t stimulate him enough! They’re TOO OLD!” Thanks, Ms. Nubile Pregnant Woman of the Age of Twenty Six Who Got Married at Twenty Two. Try having a hard time getting pregnant with years of fertility treatments and see HOW PERKY YOU ARE ABOUT LIFE.

And while we’re at it, thanks. More pressure! I SO APPRECIATE THAT. And, erm, my younger brother’s wife, is actually pregnant. He’s my step-brother, my adopted brother. And he’s a lovely guy. They’re having a boy. And Adam’s brother’s wife? Also pregnant. Having a boy.

THE WHOLE WORLD IS PREGNANT, it seems. With boys, which, amusingly, is sending Adam into a tailspin (“It’s not looking good for us, statistically…”) And at this moment? I think I decided I want to at least wait a little while before I join them, if that’s okay with everyone. I just want to hang out with my husband, dog and cat and eat mangoes. I keep waiting for some cosmic sign to tell me that YES! I want babies now! but it hasn’t happened yet. I mean, I had giant twinges before when we were in Boston, but the cold, hard truth is that I wasn’t happy with my life, so it seemed like a reasonable thing to do to make a change. And now I kind of want to see where my life goes on my own for a little bit. I have at least 5-10 good childbearing years left, you know…or so my therapist reminded me when I screamed that they were waning. Actually, I think she said 13, given that my mom went into menopause at 45 or later. So whatever.

And, um, is the PMS that obvious? AND WILL MY PERIOD JUST GET HERE ALREADY. (*small voice* But really, thank you Synthroid! I didn’t like them every 15 days! I’ll take it!)

*not you. And you so know who you are, Ms. Knitting Needles 2006. You are nice and normal and thoughtful and not bossy.

**Keane. I like them.

14 comments January 26th, 2006