What a heavy hitter, huh?

I will start this off by saying I am not a mother and I do not wish to be a mother. Ouch. I am not a mother, and I do not wish to be a mother. Nope. Not any easier. Being a childless woman in her 30’s is so freaking weird. Wait… childless or childfree? Hm. Idk. Anyway, basically if you don’t have kids at this point in life you are shit on by society. It FLOORS people. Especially when you have been in a committed relationship for years and years and years (literally half of our lifetimes). You are seen as less than, or at least that’s how it feels. Selfish. Immature. You name it, we’ve got it. We’ve been dealing with this for a long time, so it’s really nothing new to us but it still stings a little. The looks, the condescending tones, the, “You’ll change your minds” and the “Who will take care of yous” and the “Well what do you even do with your time” as if there couldn’t POSSIBLY be a life to live outside of caring for children. Oh, and don’t forget the, “OH YOU DON’T LIKE KIDS”. Never said that, but ok. What I would like to talk about is the other side of these notions. The shallow breaths that seem to appear occasionally when a comment is made. The pangs that ring throughout my chest watching my husband play with these tiny little beings. The whole other world we are swimming in that doesn’t get noticed.

Ready? Well, for starters. That shit hurts sometimes. There are days it’s a breeze to shoot back with a smartass comment and then there are days it knocks me on my smartass. Do you really think we haven’t talked about this? That the thought has never crossed our minds? Please try again… actually… don’t, you already pissed me off.

There was a time in my life I thought the only thing I was meant to do was to be a mother. I wanted 3 kids as a matter of fact. I thought I would have been a great mother. Why I thought that? Not really sure. Confidence was high back then. Then I was told I would probably have a difficult pregnancy if it were to ever happen and I wrote it off for a long time. It was just easier that way. It was like flipping a switch and it was fine. And then I entered my 30’s and all of a sudden it was at the very forefront of my mind. There were babies everywhere. I cried and cried, and we talked and talked and decided to look into alternative options like adoption and fostering and fostering to adopt and everything that goes into these processes. We talked logistics, we talked money, we talked childcare, we weighed all the odds- I know they say you can never be fully prepared, but I do believe these are important conversations to have. I talked to my friends about it. I talked to my therapist about it. I talked to a foster mom at work about it. It was exciting. It was terrifying. It was a continuous hum in our house for a long time. I envisioned what motherhood would look like for me and it felt dark. As someone who already struggles with mental health, I felt that the load of motherhood would take me to a place where I would not be the best that I could be for myself, as a wife, and as a mother. *Cue the tears* I worried that there would not be enough of me. I worried that there would be too much of me. I worried that I would not be good enough. I worried that our marriage would suffer. As much as I cried over thinking I wanted to be a mom, I also cried over not wanting to be a mom. He cried with me, worried for my worries, also lost in what he thought he wanted. I pictured him as a father. Girl dad, no doubt- he would be totally wrapped around a tiny finger. Sneaking treats and fishing trips. The fun one in the household. Calm and steady. It made me even more sad to feel like I was taking that away from him. He assured me I wasn’t. In the end, we decided to keep the life we have. And we are happy.

I know these are normal things to think about. If you’re not thinking about them, I would truly like to know what it’s like in your brain. Tell me what it is like to feel so sure about something so scary, so serious, so big. I would like to know this process for the other areas of my life as well.

I peed on a stick today. It was negative, it always is, I just have to appease my brain. The funny thing is, even though I always get the result I want, there is still a feeling of heaviness. A sigh of relief with a little sadness on the side. I don’t think this is centralized to just me. I think it happens a lot and nobody talks about it, which I’d like to change. We love the children in our lives. We love children in general, if I’m being honest. We just love us a little more. Call that what you want. Selfish. Immature. Dare I say… brave?