Biology, babies, and reality
Something strange is happening to me. I don’t understand it, but it seems that I turned 28 and immediately became baby crazy.
It must be biology.
Prior to my “almost 30” birthday a few months ago, I knew that having children would be a part of my future, but I didn’t feel any urgency or some need to get going. I was sensible, practical, and in control of my emotions. I didn’t have a plan to bring little ones into my world, and that was fine. No problem. The time would come.
But biology must kick in at 28. I am officially obsessed with babies. It’s a strange reality for a butch lesbian like me.
These days, I spend far too much time thinking about babies. I get up on a beautiful spring morning and wish I had a baby to take to the zoo. I see parents with strollers in the park, and I wish I too was pushing an over-priced baby carrier. I snuggle with my puppy and treat her like a child, and she responds with her “Why are you holding me so tight?” face.
I’m driving Addison out of her mind with all my talk of babies. But the thing is, I can’t help it. Biology has control over me. It makes me want babies…oh and doughnuts, too (where are all the doughnuts in Denver?).
Logically, I know that now is not the right time for babies. Not even close. Addison and I just moved to Denver and started new jobs in (somewhat) new fields where we need to prove ourselves.
We live in a one-bedroom apartment that we can barely afford and that will not fit a baby unless putting a bassinet under the bathroom sink is allowed (and I’m not a parent yet, but I’m thinking that’s probably a bad idea).
We still enjoy going out with our friends every weekend to dinner or to a game or a play and not getting home until midnight. We love playing cards until the wee hours of the morning.
When I think about it, it’s really apparent that our life isn’t ready for babies. Despite all the “my aged” people on Facebook announcing their pregnancies, our life isn’t there yet. We’re not settled yet. We’re not fit to be parents yet. I know that some day we will be. I know that the day will come when we feel really ready, when the sacrifices one makes to have children pale in comparison to the excitement of pushing that stroller in the zoo. I know that day will come.
And yet, biology doesn’t care about our life or our timeline. Biology doesn’t care about the size of our apartment or the money in our bank account or our love for dinners out with friends. Biology wants, needs, and demands children.
Perhaps I can feed it with a doughnut instead.
