I strive to live in the moment. My partner is a great inspiration to me on this; he does a great job of it. Shawn rarely loses sight of what is True and he never takes the rising sun for granted. It’s amazing and if it’s corny, so be it but this is something I am trying to learn from him. I’ll admit it: I am a planner.
I need to have all my bearings gathered with at least an outline of things to come. The reality of the plans can change and the outline never amended thereafter, but I have to start with an idea. When it comes to having babies, it seems to me that at least a little bit of preliminary planning is as somatic a response as involuntary as picking up something you dropped… but maybe that’s just my conditioned mind.
Over the last four years Shawn and I have discussed babies like there was no question they’d be around in our futures. At first we used individualized phrases like “When I have a kid…” and then as time went by the conversations have woven in on themselves with the words “our babies.” After our wedding some life situations like health issues and a death came up, our priorities shifted, and the planned window of time for having “our babies” moved up. We started thinking we’d try to conceive in the late Fall of 2012. And now it has, at last, become a real fleshy possibility.
This shadow of possibility scares me shitless like nothing before. It scares me so much that from time to time (until a few days after Christmas) I was doing polarized flip-flops on whether I wanted to have kids at all. Finally in the last few days of December I exploded. After putting my hyper pug in her crate before she broke something, every one of my thoughts and feelings about mommyhood from the last six months compounded and rose up in my throat. The tears burned so as to tell me that this baby thing was not for me. I couldn’t even calm down a puppy, how could I ever pacify a wailing baby? I would epitomise inadequacy in the mothering world. I had fully decided for the last time that I did NOT want children and I had to tell my partner when he got home.
I told him with finality that this is who I am, and if he wanted children I’m laying out the situation on the table. He was really upset. We cried. He asked why and I told him everything about how I’d been feeling and the things that had been running through my head. And then he did what he does best by reminding me of what is true: he is my partner. And we are going to make mistakes, everyone makes mistakes. Planning can make you feel better now but no amount of plans can predict every situation, and you’re bound to fuck up here and there. The best thing we can do is to live now; try to be the kind of people we want to be everyday; and to thus prepare OURSELVES for being the kind of parents we want our children to have. This diminished my fear.
And then he shared his thoughts on how we will conceive, “I just thought we’d just kind of be in the middle of making love and decide right there if it’s a time to try, and continue accordingly…”
Sounds good, babe. Sounds really good.