A few years ago something strange happened to me: I’d see a pregnant woman and I’d want to be her. I’m not particularly maternal--I think I might actually be scared of babies. And while I like little kids, I only want to be around them for about 20 minutes before it starts to get old. So, this new feeling came as a shock.
The more I thought about it, the more I realised that this was about my desire for my own family. When I picture a family I picture not just a two adults and maybe some pets, but also children. I think that, for me, no relationship will seem complete without the possibility of children.
This still doesn’t help me resolve my lack of maternal feeling. While the idea of being pregnant is strangely desirable, the idea of having a baby at the end of it, who I will have to look after for the rest of my life, is not particularly appealing. Maybe I just like the idea of eating for two? Jokes aside, I find the idea of raising kids daunting. I cannot be a single mother. There is no turkey baster or foreign adoption in my future. I don’t want to raise a child alone. I’m not into babies for babies sake.
So, I’m waiting for a man who makes me want to have babies. For me to want to get fat, fart uncontrollably, need to pee all the time, and push something the size of a football through my uterus he’ll need to be one charming mother fucker. Plus, there needs to be a balancing influence. I’m lazy. I can be impatient. I’m overly demanding. Left to my own devices I’d mess that kid up.
Last week two of my friends had babies. Both of them were working before and at this point both are planning to go back to work after their maternity leave ends. This is probably very un-feminist of me, but I want to be a stay-at-home mom.
I did some research a while back on women in the workplace, and I found a piece that said that people consider stay-at-home moms to be “simple”. Basically they’re perceived as stupid, barefoot-in-the-kitchen types. But my mom was a stay-at-home mom. It was not by choice--both my brother and I were born on overseas assignments in countries where my mom did not have a work permit. But even after we returned to the States my mom continued to stay home with us. Not that she was really home. She developed interests in art and cooking and took courses; she volunteered at the local museum and played a lot of tennis. She also got very involved in our educations and headed the PTO one year. She was busy, her brain was engaged, she was definitely not “simple.” And she was also there for us to help us with our homework, to pick us up from school, shuttle us to our extracurriculars, have family dinner, and talk with us about what was happening in our lives.
I can’t imagine a better upbringing, and I cannot imagine not providing the same level of care to my own children. And I know that as they get older and are in school longer I can do more things, like get a part-time job or work from home. Being productive and having some finanical independence is still important to me. But I’m not going to be a climb the latter at all costs career woman. At least not by choice. I need to meet a charming man.
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