Last week I had the opportunity to photograph a birth, and it was the most beautiful thing and has absolutely left me changed - to have witnessed such a monumental thing and also such a basic thing of life. Wow. I can now say I have seen someone be born and I have also seen someone die. Someone entering this world and someone leaving it. Weird and amazing and full circle and certainly makes you think about mortality. Anyway.
Back in December I reached the ripe old age of 27, and as of last month, Matthew is 34. And we are childless. Not due to infertility, though I know that could potentially be an issue down the road, especially since my eggs aren’t getting any younger and all that. Nay, we are childless because, up until now, we have not been ready for a child, for various reasons that I will not delve into here today.
Family members have been reasonably patient and non-pressuring in regards to our child-free-status, until recently when Matthew’s grandmother expressed what has likely been on everyone else’s mind. We were at Christmas, and I was holding a cousin’s baby while Matthew sat beside me watching it cautiously. His grandma walked by, stopped short, raised her eyebrows, and said, “Do you need instructions on how to make one of those?” Our anniversary card from her this year also contained similar sentiments. A spitfire, that woman, gotta love her.
The truth of the matter, though, is that we are both so torn about children and parenthood and all that it entails. Having a child involves a certain amount of dying to self, which means that at some point in the process I, for one, would likely have to relinquish my status as the most selfish person I know.
Also, I already have trouble completing all my tasks for the day, between running my business and running a home and running a meager social life, and if we were to add a child into that mix, I know something would have to give. It would most likely be my business, which makes me really, really sad. Because it fulfills me and gives me so much joy and confidence as a human being. Everything I read about motherhood seems to say that your children become your everything. You live them and breath them from dawn to dusk and then all throughout dusk, too, until it’s dawn again. There seems to be such little time for anything else outside of parenting, and that prospect has just not been attractive to us so far.
I guess I just want to be comfortable and at peace with how my role will change when we become parents. There is nothing wrong with being a mom without much time for anything else. It’s natural and normal and good. But is it good for me? That’s what I’m trying to figure out.
Truth is, I have baby fever something fierce, and if I got pregnant tomorrow, I’d be beyond excited. But that dying to self part? Not too excited about it. And I wonder… can you be a mom, and a good one, and still have time for your own interests? And still maintain a strong identity outside of your children? And still run a successful business? Or is it one of those things where there’s like three categories but you can only pick two? You can’t have all three without making major sacrifices in each department?
All I know is that I’m happier now than I have ever been. More sure of my direction and, well, myself. My relationship with my husband has finally come to a place of peace and evening out, and we kind of just want to enjoy that for a while. So for now, we remain childless. And a bit terrified of being parents. But I think we both know that our family is missing someone, or multiple someones. We know we’re on the edge of some vast precipice, but just haven’t quite gotten to the part where you take the leap.
