What About Everything?
June 12th, 2006
For the last time for a while: babies. Stop gagging. I know, I know – all the irritation of a Mommyblog, with none of the cute pictures.
My younger brother’s wife had a baby last week, which, hello familial prodding, and honestly, I don’t know what to tell them when they ask me when or why we haven’t. Someday the thyroid excuse is going to wear thin, and I’m going to have to come up with something better. This is annoying for about a million reasons, but mostly because I am knee-jerk honest, and an oversharer, and usually feel compelled to tell people the truth, and the truth is one I’m not comfortable with, but here it is.
For the better part of the last two weeks, with not-unsubstantiated reason, I have been convinced I was pregnant. ClearBlue “Easy” (a lie) tells me no, but I’m still not completely sure that the test is accurate. And the thing is, I hate my reaction, and I feel like there is/was something wrong with me, hence, all of the bellyaching and whining and “What about the CHILDREN?” questions and self-indulgence and…bah, just bah. Because, forget about the children, what about everything? Really, what about fucking EVERY.THING?
I am honestly disgusted at my reaction during this Time of Fear. I was panicked, looking about wildly for something, anything, familiar to hang on to. Flashes of utter sadness and depression and absolute misery flashed over me like giant bolts of malevolent lightning. I felt selfish and awful and embarrassed and just…miserable, and so I didn’t really tell anyone until today, when I was CONVINCED that it was true, and I was on the cusp of finding out, and all I could say was, “Erica, I’m NOT THERE. I AM HERE, AND THEN WHAT?” because I just…I just…I just wanted to go home, and I realized that I now know where that is, and I’m really and truly nowhere near there.
I just wanted to go home and be with my sister. My friends. People who know me who would help me through it, because I wasn’t ready, and I wasn’t excited, I was just upset and sickened and miserable. And the thing is, that’s pretty pathetic. I’m THIRTY. Hello, if you didn’t hear me, I’M THIRTY. People who are thirty should know enough not to panic if they think they are pregnant. I AM AN ADULT, not a teenager. They should know that they are financially solvent enough to survive a baby (we are) and that the world isn’t ending just because a new life is beginning (is it?). But that’s all I could see: An ending, and that this kid – and Adam – would know that my first reaction wasn’t joy, but was, in fact, terror and loathing. And I wanted to go home and start it all over again. Home. Which is veryvery far away.
It took a long time for the rational thoughts to even come close to the surface. Ones that involved a baby, maybe. That I would name him or her after Adam’s grandma, whom I loved beyond all rational thought. That maybe he or she would have smooshy feet like Sundry‘s Riley (who is, if you’ve never noticed, the cutest baby I’ve honestly ever seen), and like to be carried around in a backpack and visit the ocean and laugh. That maybe I’d learn to be able to communicate with an Aries, because, FUCK, my kid could be an Aries and Capricorns don’t get along with Aries, really, at least in my experience and then OH MY GOD, I’d start to panic again, because: ARIES.*
I didn’t tell anyone. Not my friends, not my sister, and not even Adam, until today. Because I was too ashamed at how scared I was. How chicken I sounded, and what a pathetic wimp I am. How ridiculously stupid 99% of my fears were, and how, if I actually was pregnant, I wouldn’t be as happy as I think I should be, and how there are women – hundreds of thousands of really smart, capable, brilliant women -would give their eye teeth for a baby of their own, and the best I could do was fear it like a coming storm, and try like hell to outrun it.
I wanted to run so far and so fast that nothing, not even my own body, could catch me. And I still might be, and I’ll have to live with this, this awful fear right here in print, and we’ll have to see what happens. It will be okay, but god, what about it? What about a baby and my life and being a parent and what about everything? The closer I get, the further I feel, but at the same time, I realize that this is the only way it will ever happen for me.
I know that if I were pregnant – if now really and truly was the time for me, that I would love that child beyond all fathomability. The love would swallow the whole world. But what sickens me is that I didn’t want to, and I knew it would be in spite of myself. I didn’t want to love him. I didn’t want to move on. I’m not done with me enough to give me to someone else. I have things to do.
And this – this horrible dread, loathing and panic is why I fear infertility. I will never put myself through what I see so many women do every day to have a baby. Not because I disagree with what they do, or because I think it’s somehow wrong – no. It’s that they want it more than I do, and they have a hell of a lot more courage than I do. But strangely, if you asked me if I want children, I will still tell you yes, but I don’t see how I’ll ever get there without an accident, and, after seeing my own horrified reaction, I’m not sure I deserve one anyway.
*This in itself is ridiculous, because if my math is correct – and it’s not my strong suit – he or she would be a Pisces, which is, in fact, safe. A lot safer than an Aries.
**Carbon Leaf
Entry Filed under: Nuttin'
16 Comments Add your own
1. jes | June 12th, 2006 at 9:38 pm
I will tell you what you already know – what I tell myself when I face the same fears: “You will know when you’re ready.”
But that begs the question: What if you never know? Or, if you’re never ready?
Still, I think that if we are meant to have kiddos, it’ll happen, and we’ll know.
Until then, I am taking care of my nephew. All the joy of having children, none of the responsibility.
2. Yez | June 12th, 2006 at 10:13 pm
Awww. You already know how much I wanted Alex, but that moment when the EPT confirmed it, the boundless joy quickly got roped in by the “NOW you’ve done it” voice-of-doom thoughts :-} I don’t think that second thoughts/fear/liking-your-own-life-just-fine-TYVM are a clear indicator that you’re not ready, just as wanting a child isn’t a guarantee that you’re ready.
And if it turns out that you are, in fact, plural – you can always set this post to “private”
3. anna | June 13th, 2006 at 6:15 am
Wow, that was like reading everything that was going on in my head when I say two lines pop up on my ept. Honestly, don’t worry. You’re not weird for freaking out at 30 and not knowing if you really want a kid, if you want to let go of your life.
I was 25 when I found out. Tim was 31. We both flipped out, and in the BAD way. We’d never wanted kids. I thought I’d destroyed our lives. I hated myself for screwing up the birth control. I thought my life was over, there and then. We went through unadulterated hell for 9 months. I was completely terrified. I’d never even held a baby before. I’d never changed a diaper. I disliked children. I thought I would be a terrible mother and hold it against the child for taking away my life.
Well, our son is amazing. He keeps me sane. Once he was born, I realized how self-obsessed I was before he was born, and all I could do was laugh.
4. GuinnessGirl | June 13th, 2006 at 7:01 am
First off, I have to say what the hell is up with familial prodding? Oh, wait. I get it. ‘Cause having a baby just because Uncle Bill and Aunt Joan want you to is truly a good reason for doing so.
Second, oh how awful for you. I can guarantee you I would flip out in much the same way – even though I know I want kids one day – I’m still no kinda ready for them now.
Not that you asked, but I recommend popping by the doc for a real test. I had to do that for a scare right before Wilman and I moved, and Aunt Flo made her appearance about 30 minutes after the nurse and I had our infamous conversation:
Nurse: Okay, your results are back.
Me: ???? Um…just break it to me fast. ‘Cause I KNOW I’m knocked up. I can just TELL.
Nurse: You’re not pregnant.
Me: What? That can’t be right.
Nurse: Well, it is.
Me: Wow, I was so sure!
Nurse: Did you stop taking the Pill or something?
Me: What? Oh, no.
Nurse: ….um…how late was your period?
Me: Oh, it wasn’t late. I know I sound crazy, but I just had this FEELING.
Nurse: …um…I see on your chart that you take the anti-depressant, Lexapro. How’s your prescription for that working out?
Oh yeah. The nurse pretty much called me insane to my face.
5. GuinnessGirl | June 13th, 2006 at 7:03 am
Oh, before I sound too crazy, I kinda forgot to mention the part about how, before the doctor visit, I drank a couple glasses of wine, took a pregnancy test – that EPT one that is supposed to make it so simple that it says “pregnant” or “not pregnant.” Well, I took the test and it came back “pregnant.”
Holyfreakingshit.
At that point, I drove to the 24-hour-Kroger and got 2 more EPTs and another bottle of wine; took both the tests and they came back “not pregnant”…but I still was convinced the first result was right. Thus, the doctor trip the next day.
Sorry for basically writing a blog post in your comments.
6. winterwheat | June 13th, 2006 at 7:36 am
There is nothing I can say that hasn’t already been said more brilliantly in the above responses, but here’s my $.02 anyway.
1. Get the to a WalMart and pick up an Equate pregnancy test. They’re half as expensive and twice as sensitive (meaning they can detect smaller amounts of pregnancy hormone) as ClearBlue and the other drugstore tests. Yes, Equate products are made specifically for WalMart by small children in developing countries, but buy them (more than one, because you know you’ll use more than one) anyway. Mine came up positive 3 days before my period was due.
2. It wasn’t until I was 35 that the thought of becoming pregnant didn’t fill me with dread. I was certain I’d have fertility problems for the exact same reasons you are: I didn’t “want” it enough. Then when we became pregnant the 2nd month trying, I felt guilty because I thought I hadn’t “suffered” enough. Gestational diabetes and an emergency c-section cured that misperception. Life isn’t fair. Some people want children desperately and can’t have them. Others don’t want them and can’t seem to stop having them. What matters is that you want them once they’re here. And if you have one, trust me, you will. And really, how can you know how much you want something you’ve never experienced? It’s a gamble. Even for people who are convinced they’ll be “over the moon” (as Hello! magazine always describes newly pregnant British celebrities), it’s a gamble.
3. It’s totally natural to want to be around supportive people when you’re pregnant or have a new baby. If this experience has made you want to run back up north, fine. Remember, pregnancy lasts 9 months; that’s enough time to arrange a move if you really want to move. And it gives you something to look forward to.
4. How many events in your life — seriously, be honest, how many? — have you thought of retrospectively as things you didn’t want at the time but that you’re SO glad happened? Maybe you didn’t get a job at a place you heard later was a viper pit, maybe that loser guy you thought you loved broke up with you, blah blah blah. The list goes on and on. Just because you WANT it doesn’t mean it’s good for you (doughnuts for breakfast), and just because you DON’T want it doesn’t mean it’s bad for you (exercise).
5. There isn’t a woman alive who doesn’t have mixed feelings upon finding that she’s pregnant (or isn’t), so don’t believe the ones who say they were nothing but thrilled. They’re either lying or terribly naive about what’s involved in raising children. There *should* be some trepidation, if not outright terror. It’s a good sign; it means you have a healthy respect for the job ahead of you. It means you’ll be a good mom.
{{{{{hugs}}}}}}
7. Kate123 | June 13th, 2006 at 8:04 am
I love this: “And really, how can you know how much you want something you’ve never experienced? It’s a gamble.” Kris, you have said it all so basically, I have nothing to say. Sorry J!
I’ll only add: you are a funny woman. You really know how to write your own personal neurotic stuff in a way that most of us can relate to, and you make it funny too. That’s a cool talent to have. Love, KM
8. Whinger | June 13th, 2006 at 9:36 am
You say so brilliantly what I feel. And judging by all of my smart, funny, straight friends who have had kids and are great moms, this is a totally normal reaction.
And by the way, 90% of those same friends got pregnant by playing fast and loose with the birth control. And one is an OB-GYN who knows WAY better. I don’t think it’s unusual for our subconscious to take over in big decisions sometimes.
Nicely tell your well-intentioned relatives to can it. They’ll know when YOU know.
9. Lawyerish | June 13th, 2006 at 10:08 am
Ohhhhh. You captured it all. I just wrote about the lack of babylust as well. And I have had (totally irrational) moments where I thought something might have happened by accident, and all I felt was dead inside. Dead inside and sick at my own reaction, and envious of everyone else’s joy. I often wonder if something is wrong with me, if I might have been born without a chromosome, the one that makes you want to procreate. I adore my friends’ babies and my nephew, but MAN. I am just not feeling it, myself.
I also find it very odd that I read so many “mommy blogs” in spite of my feelings. I think a lot of it is that it helps me see how life goes on and how “normal” people — people who are otherwise like me except they took the leap — can maintain their identities while learning to be parents. But it’s also because these women are damn funny and they write about life, not just life with child.
Anyway – in a nutshell – thanks for writing this. I love bare naked honesty, and this is it.
10. Lena | June 13th, 2006 at 12:19 pm
Panic is totally normal. You obviously have high standards and becoming a parent is the biggest freaking test of character. I was terrified of failing at it. Ha! I still am! Just don’t think that you have to wait for this feeling to go away before you’ll consider parenting. I promose: it never goes away!
11. Jurgen Nation | June 13th, 2006 at 4:17 pm
“People who are thirty should know enough not to panic if they think they are pregnant.” Girl, we need to have a drink and talk. Hoo!
Anyway, a baby is change and change is TERRIFYING. I don’t know that panic or a knee-jerk fear of that is a bad thing. In fact, I know it’s not. And it has nothing to do with how much you will love parenthood or being pregnant or being a mom – it’s just a very scary thing to be immersed in. I don’t envy you, but I’ve been there and if you want to talk, I’m an e-mail away. You can be financially solvent and choose not to have children – either now or ever. I’m 90% sure that is the path Matt and I will take. ((((HUG))))
12. Carolyn J. | June 13th, 2006 at 8:21 pm
Dude, I would run screaming thru the neighbourhood if I found out I was pregnant. I’m 33 and financially solvent with a husband.
13. jonniker | June 13th, 2006 at 8:52 pm
I think, mostly, out of anything, I’m blown away not just by the comments (I will always be blown away by comments and that anyone reads this, ever), but by the tremendously thoughtful comments you all leave.
I’m touched. Seriously. And also, slightly drunk, but mostly: touched, and I have been all day. I don’t know what to say, other than “I’m not worthy of such thoughtfulness and care,” and also, “THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE OF GOD”
But, thank you. I’m shaking my head, because every time I opened my email and it would be a comment about this – FOR ME – or an email – FOR ME – I would nearly faint at the thoughtfulness.
So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I don’t know what else to say.
14. Leigh Costain | June 13th, 2006 at 10:14 pm
Um, I had exactly the same experience as Anna but I was 31. I found out the night before I was supposed to run a marathon. My fiance (that’s right, we were 8 weeks from being married and I already had the dress) sat down and ate a carton of mango ice cream while reading the sports section upside down. Yup, like in the movies.
So much for the diaphragm.
Now I feel as if my son keeps me tethered to the earth, without him I would disappear, vaporize. I, too, think it’s funny how self obsessed I was before becoming a mom. (Not that you are self-obsessed, Jonniker, but “me” was about all I did).
I’m not sure I ever could have said “I’m ready”. I felt far from it, and I was not at all sure I wanted kids. Turned out I was totally ready. Now my biggest regret is that I only had one. But I am a totally different person than I would have been childless.
Of course you’re scared; how often in your life do you get faced with a decision that will have such a profound impact on who you become?
15. gamonie | April 11th, 2007 at 12:13 pm
I haven’t gotten much done these days. So it goes. What can I say? I’ve just been letting everything pass me by. Basically not much going on lately, but it’s not important. I’ve basically been doing nothing worth mentioning.
16. GOODSaundra | June 15th, 2010 at 4:35 am
I would like to propose not to wait until you get big sum of cash to order all you need! You can take the home loans or just student loan and feel yourself free
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