Party of One

Yup.

I'm freaking out a bit here.

The thing is, sometimes I don't really feel like I can write down what I think.  Sometimes I don't even know what I think, so writing it down is a bit of a stretch.  I used to have this remarkable ability to dissociate at will (or even not at will, my condition was pretty fucking arbitrary) but a whole lot of psychotherapy has cured me of that.  Or cursed me by taking it away. 

When I was in my early 20's I had no doubt that I wanted to remain childless.  Or, rather, I did want a child possibly, but I wanted to adopt that child.   As a chick with an Asian background, I really saw myself adopting another chick with an Asian background.  I'd name her Lily and together we'd rule the world.

Maybe that was the grown-up version of me playing Barbie dolls, I dunno.

I only realized I did want kids in my mid-twenties.  I'd fucked up, see.  I did want kids.  Or, to be more specific, I wanted a child.  One.  Uno.  In my mind's eye, I was always the mother of one child only, and not in a creepy Psycho kind of way.  It's just all my imagination offered up.

I never met a man who was willing to adopt with me.  I also only ever knew one man that wanted kids, and that was my ex-husband.  My lovely boy Aidan, the one who's the single brightest part of my heart...well, he didn't want any more kids.  He felt his kid hand was full, time to cash in the chips and head to the buffet.  He agreed to try for a child with me for me, and although you read lots of blogs of Dads crying at scans and running home to give Mom a rub on her glowing pregnant belly for luck, I know there are others in similar situations to mine-the Dad, he's maybe not so keen on having more.  In fact, the Dad may be strongly angling in the "Look, honey, I already cashed my chips in" area.  A guy I work with is in the same place-his Mrs. is still pushing through IVF and he's also of the "been married before, done that kid thing before bit, too and now wouldn't mind hitting up the buffalo wings and bleu cheese dip" mind. 

Now that I'm pregnant, I'm very grateful.  I personally feel that there will be many, many ups and downs.  I think that the infant stage will be hard but will come to an end, probably sooner than I think.  I think the toddler stage will be hilarious and aggravating  I think once they start school, we're in the zone with how the template of the rest of the childhood years will look.  Not for one moment do I see things being so easy I could spend my time baking a cake and watching the raunchiest of soap operas at top volume.  But then, I don't do that now and I don't have kids.

No, although he is a fantastic and very doting father, Aidan didn't really want more kids.  Specifically, Aidan is not a fan of babies.  And to be blindingly honest, he always maintained that twins would probably end us.  Uplifting, but it's what he said.  And I'm mindful of what he said.  And it's not that I dismiss it (because I don't, it's a rather serious thing) and it's not that I think that he doesn't know what he's talking about.  It's as stupid as this-in the innermost place where I hold things dear to me that I know are true, that place where I store my love for Santa Clause, where I keep secret things that I never stop believing in, I hold the following: I love him more than I have ever loved anyone before, ever.  I love him more than anyone else put together.  In my little secret place, I think we can weather anything.  Honest.  And we've really done some weathering in the past.

And our lives are going to change.  It's true, I generally feel like my life has been very fluid anyway, and Ifeel like I'll simply bubble around the child-shaped space that will be created.  It doesn't mean I think it will all be a cake walk, but I simply tend to go from one situation to another.  Aidan and I currently take holidays together every few months.  That will change, at least for a while.  But once they're older, it can come back again, thanks to the plethora of grandparents clamoring to babysit (his parents already do watch the grandkids when the parents - his brothers - go on holiday together).  True, it may subside for a short while.  But to me, to my stupid way of thinking, I'll wait it out.  Wherever we go will be worth it.  The first two years especially will be hard from a financial perspective.  I've been through harder. We can do hard.  It's not fun, but hard is never fun.  Hard is a phase.  It always is.

This is how I feel, anyway.  And although I come across as a fucking Pollyanna, I really do think I'm pretty level-headed about this.

And then I think-I can't believe in all of this on my own.  I can't look forward to the future, I can't dream of vacations and bedtime stories and sleeplessness and yelling that they're going to miss the bus and family holidays of all of us on a sunny beach together on my own.  It all falls down when I rise up against the negativity.  I think-I need us to be a team.  I need us together.  I need us to prepare for the bad AND the good.  Are we going to do that together?  Because I'm a pretty strong swimmer, but I need you to kick, too.

Maybe I'm just a fucking idiot.

It's likely that.

And often I feel alone-I'm scared about all kinds of things, but I have no one to talk to about it.  Sometimes Aidan does say positive and kind things and they are enough to put me back on track.  But I won't be the one with the husband telling me how beautiful I look while pregnant.  No one will reach out to feel the kicking.  And then what happens if once they arrive the 5th sleepless night occurs and I look up hoping to see a look of "we're in this together", but instead see a "you fucked my life up big time" look?  What happens if there are no good times?  What happens if I really have fucked everything up, and it all goes to hell? 

I remember my mother once telling me that one thing she regretted was not having a partner to enjoy her pregnancy with her.  My father apparently hated pregnancy.  My father didn't like or want kids, and didn't want any more of them.  Now he tells me he regrets so much of it all, he wishes he had been there more.  But that sentence lingers on my mind-regretting not having someone to enjoy it with. 

Maybe that will be my regret, too.

I hate feeling like that.

I hate knowing my mother will read I feel like that.

I hate feeling sorry for myself, so I'll quit now.

PS-comments are closed, mostly because I don't want any remote kind of Aidan backlash (because he really is someone I very much care about and in so many ways, he is my rock.  I like to think he's made of slate.  Sparkly slate Aidan), and I don't think I can currently handle the usual smatter of "Life will change!  But having babies will be great!  You'll love it!  He'll come around!  Free My Little Ponies for all!"  Closed comments isn't code for "comment on another post to get it out there" or "email me to berate him" or anything like that.  Maybe it's the hormones.  Don't take it personally.  I just thought maybe if I write it out, it will ease my mind for a moment.