Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Happy Birthday to me.

When I was about 16, I had to go to the doctor for some reason or another. The doctor went through a list of normal health history questions and then came to the one that said, "Do you have a partner?"

I paused. Partner? Lab partner? Partner-in-crime?

Then I realised she was talking about a partner in sex and I blushed and mumbled yes. It was meta- embarrassment: I was embarrassed because I assumed my pause had led her to believe I was embarrassed about the question and I really wasn't, I was just having trouble understanding it.
Anyway: I have a medical appointment with a nurse midwife (before anyone gets all excited congratulatory weird - I am not pregnant. This is only the planning stages) in a few days which involved a lot of paperwork for me (none for Ryan! I realise that one has to be sensitive about these things, but surely his medical history is pertinent too). It was full of similar questions. I made the appointment a month ago, they sent me a whole bunch of papers and said please bring these along, filled in and I thought, they expect me to keep track of this paper work for a whole month? (I am so incapable of filing things that once they make it off the kitchen table onto the living room side table that is on the way to the filing cabinet and then off the living room side table, further in the direction of the filing cabinet, they make it into a basket, that I keep a pile of papers in, on top of my filing cabinet that I call my "basket-of-shame". Every six months to one year the shame becomes overwhelming, boredom and a desire to be perceived as an adult set in and I convince myself to file it all away.) Then I remembered what the appointment was for and realised that this may be some sort of test. Are you organised enough to keep track of this paperwork for a month? Okay, step one completed, you may have a baby. 

What drove me to make this appointment? A desire to quit my job and my 30th birthday (today!). Well biology, really more than the actual age thing.  It's not anything I am actually conscious of - I just have baby dreams every single week and have done for about 3 years. I burst into tears over this one during one of our discussions, claiming that I was struggling with my own biology. I spluttered: "I should be above this!" then Ryan said, "Why? You're a biological creature." And I realised that once again I had been operating under assumptions that had been placed on me at a young age, by someone else.


So I have these baby dreams, despite the fact that I don't actually like babies. I have no interest in holding them, looking at them or cooing at them. I don't like the idea that stuff can come out of them, from any orifice, without much notice. Casey told me about "not minding" when they sick in your mouth and I turned white and then tried not to sick up lunch. "I will mind." I told her, she assured me I wouldn't (I will). Before you ask, I do like children and babies are only babies for a short time. I used to think there was something wrong with me (another assumption, placed on me at a young age by someone else)and then I decided that there wasn't and that it was okay not to like (human*) babies. Also: I have been told by reliable sources that I might actually like my own baby.


So, I can say it now, I want children. I am also terrified of screwing up, particularly in the beginning (What are babies? We just don't know). So, I am doing this the only way I know how. Lying awake at night worrying about it, meeting with a doctor first, taking vitamins and reading prodigious amounts on the subject. (Did you know that the baby gets to taste the flavours of the things you eat through the amniotic fluid and there is some evidence that that effects what kind of an eater they are when they are born? So it's a really good idea to eat a wide variety of foods when you are pregnant if it is important to you -as it is to me- that your child not be a picky eater? NEAT).


Ryan worries a lot less than I do. I had these concerns that my riding goals would have to be put on hold indefinitely ("No - I imagine I'll come home from work, you'll hand me the baby and go off riding.") or that the dogs would get neglected (he seemed doubtful over this as well and I think about it now and he's right. I'll be home with all of them all day. We'll go on walks. The baby will be the familiaris version of Mowgli).  Also having a messy house full of crap I don't want and don't need**.

My friends who are expecting a baby any minute now are instituting a no-plastic rule for toys in the hopes that it will cut down on some of the crap they are bound to receive. Of course, I mentioned that to someone else who thought they were nuts (I do not).

I mentioned my not wanting a lot of baby crap to Casey and it was like that scene in The Jerk... "Oh you don't need a lot of stuff. Except a co-sleeper. And a [some other item I don't recall]. Oh and a [another item I don't recall] is really great too" etcetera. But I really think that with our two forces of will united against plastic garbage and space takers in general, we will be able to avoid the problem of too much baby crap. Maybe I'm a fool to think that I can keep a grown up looking house and children, but I'm pretty sure it's possible (now I just want to go home and throw away a bunch of things).

So anyway. Happy birthday to me, I've decided to reproduce.

*and here is my assumption I am placing on you puppies, kittens and foals it is not okay not to like. If you've never seen baby horses frolicking, you've never actually seen frolicking and that is a shame. Also, look at their tiny, whiskery, puckered, little mouths while you are at it. And their butts.

** It's time to do the fall clear out. I've noticed some shirts in my drawers that I haven't worn in six months, so away they must go. Also, I need to move the warmer clothes back into rotation soon, get the old couch downstairs to make room for more storage in the pantry and hang Robert's painting. And dust the bookshelves.

No comments: