Tuesday, December 13, 2005

No Pitter Patter

A few weeks ago, I experienced my very first pregnancy scare. After being very queasy for a few days, it dawned on me that I hadn't had my period in a while- and then I had a 36 hour period of emotional chaos. Fear, loathing, confusion...it was all there. Mostly confusion. I had no sexual activity for months...and I was always protected.


So, I ever so discreetly invested in a pregnancy test, and did the whole "I won't make a decision until I know for sure" thing. Well, as logic would have it, I wasn't pregnant (surprise! stomach flu!) and I got my period the next day (because stomach flu doesn't suck enough!)


I never told anyone, because, now that I've thought about it, it's embarassingly silly that I thought for a second that I could be pregnant. Afterall, I wasn't having sex, I'm prone to irregular menstruation, and the stomache flu was circulating through my apartment. Smart, Dyna, real smart.


But since that time, I've toyed with the idea. Mostly because the boy and I have discussed being sexually active (after a long long long hiatus) and it was important to him that we have a contingency plan in case of pregnancy. That's fine- one of the things I like about him is that he needs that kind of planning in place. I did tell him that I would not marry him strictly because I would be carrying his child as I don't think it's fair to bring a baby into a situation that is not necessarily a loving and stable home. I also told him that I would not very seriously consider abortion, as I don't think I could go through with it. But I would think long and hard about adoption- I'm just not ready for a baby. I also told him that, while I feel that fathers have a certain amount of say over the fate of their fetuses, it's ultimately my decision. My body is not simply a vessel for creating and nurturing more people; rather, it's my living space and tool, and I might, one day, decide to share said space with a fetus, and then decide to care for it.


That noted, I'll say it right now, the boy would make an excellent father; he is rather stingy with affection (but, so am I), but I think he would make for a very solid and available figure. If I could choose any of the past boys to be a baby daddy, it would be this boy. I get the general impression that the boy wants to be a father, and that is altogether quite comforting if I ever find myself pregnant. It's not really comforting that he would be quite content to be settled down and buying baby booties and looking into preschools right now, though.


So, now that I am officially sure that I am not pregnant, I can safely toy with the idea. Now that I have a general idea of what I actually want out of life, and I've climbed out of the bottomless pit of self-loathing and depression, I can enter into a healthy relationship...and perhaps look to the future, rather then revelling in the past/present. Would being a mommy be that horrible? I've always imagined that I would hate it. I hate babies crying in restaurants, I can't stand little kids being irritating in stores, I don't particularly care for the idea of ending most of my own ambitions to throw myself at the upbringing of offspring, and I'm not really sure that I could be a good mother.


Strangely enough, I've heard the very first tickings of the biological clock. Maybe it's the sense of inevitablity that I get from the boy: probably mostly from his language. "Marriage" slowly changed from "one day i'll meet someone" to "if we" to "we have our future to plan." The issue of children morphed from "I'm ambivalent about kids" to "one day" to "how do you feel about such and such issue in parenting?" It's hard to not plan and plot when someone else is already staking claims on your future.


Only once in my life have I had a stronger urge to end a relationship, and never have I been so compelled to stay in one.

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