I’ve been staying with my older sister and her husband for the last couple weeks, and it’s had a rather significant effect on my life. In addition to feeling a little less ready for the school year than I was before I arrived, I’m also feeling very, very unprepared for the things that I think I want in the future. Like a family.
My sister just had a baby boy, and when I say ‘just,’ I mean three days ago. I’ve been here to help and to watch the horrors and joys of childbirth and infant care and post-pregnancy discomfort. I’ve witnessed the amazing teamwork between my sister and her husband and felt the apparent and necessary love between them and for this new little boy. I’ve also seen some of the gritty details, including unfortunately placed stitches, painful bathroom trips, negative hours of sleep, and terrifying needles.
And here’s the thing: I still want all this.
I recognize how absolutely insane I’m going to have to become before I let myself actually commit to becoming pregnant, but I also acknowledge that ultimately, I think I want to be that insane. If only for long enough to make it happen.
But I’m worried. I’m obviously worried about the pain–and the medical procedures that I’ll have to be aware of and go through without fainting–but I’m more worried about something else. See, watching all this and realizing how vulnerable and completely incapacitated I would have to be in order to have kids makes me painfully aware of the absolute necessity of finding the right person to have by my side in the process.
Of course I always knew I needed to marry a man who would be a great dad. But now I see that I also absolutely need to marry a man who will always love and take care of me, even when I am screaming at him to please bring me ice chips and asking him to please take the baby and begging him to hold my hands while various very disgusting things happen to my lower half. I’m going to need a man who fully appreciates the difficulties ahead and who is more than okay with the idea that I may never look the same. Ever again.
I’m sure for some people, all that is something they already expected from a man they’d marry. And if you asked me before, I’m sure I would have nodded and said, “Of course he has to love me through all that.” But saying it and understanding it are two different things.
I think it’s easy for people my age to accept superficial love because we are still (and for many of us, finally) living a life where our appearance is a point of confidence. We take pride in how we look, how we dress, our sexuality, so we want to be appreciated for it. Naturally, then, as long as it’s not an unhealthy relationship, we don’t complain all that much if it seems to revolve around those things.
So it’s hard for us (maybe just me) to truly accept that love doesn’t come from lust. It’s hard to switch focus and look for relationships that are of a different nature–not the two-year stints I’ve been considering long-term, but the real nitty-gritty long haul sort of love.
That is what I want. Eventually. So maybe I should start trying something new. Otherwise, I promise, I’ll never, ever have kids.
Ladybird Fly 