Here's the thing with music and me, when I hear something I like, I wear the album out. I listen over and over and over. If I fall asleep during a skip, a groove is worn. Ok, the album reference is a little outdated, but for those of us who experienced adolescence when albums were listened to, you understand.
Now, back to my subject. I am in pre surgery thinking mode. Never having surgery before I'm sure I'm in denial regarding my recovery. Whoever thinks denial is a bad thing is just plain stupid. I love denial, it's how I survive. I have only been in hospitals to have babies, and recovery was short and sweet.
Funny all of my stays in hospitals surround my uterus.
I am having the baby cocoon removed Monday morning. For some crazy reason I have become sad about the prospect of never having another baby, God only knows why, I am almost 50. Last night I started thinking about the "what ifs". What if I met a man and we wanted to see what our mixed DNA would produce? If he was a man that I loved he would have to be spectacular, our kiddo would be nothing short of the most fabulous being ever born (yeah no ego problem here).
I have beautiful children, and spectacularly good ones. They sleep through the night from birth, listened to their momma, are funny and smarter than the average bear.. My girlfriend told me that God would give us only what we could handle. If that's the truth he apparently thinks I'm fairly fragile when it comes to child rearing. My kids were so damn easy.
I tend to forget the negative part of my mothering skills. The little part that I left them with their pops and moved a few states away because I was (still am) a bit of a fruitcake. They still love me, and have become a bigger priority to me now that I'm not with them. They are in my mind 24 hours a day. I talk to them daily, miss them desperately. I can't go back tho, I just can't.
Back to my thinking I am going to miss my baby making ability. I loved being pregnant. I loved the whole idea of the little aliens growing inside me. Watching my belly provided me with such pleasure and entertainment. The pokes and whole body rolls were miracles that I was responsible for.
I could have another baby, would love to have another baby with someone that I loved. I am ready now, I wasn't ready when I had my kids. I feel guilty for thinking such thoughts and very sad.
1 comment:
Being able to realize that you weren't ready when you did have kids, isn't something to feel badly about, IMHO. It just IS. My child's father was like that (and yeah, we talked about having kids together, too, actually HE did, but it was sooner than he could deal).
I'm 46, almost 47, and while part of me thinks, what if?, I, too, know I'm "done," just biologically. Sometimes that's sad, cuz I adore my daughter and wow, to do it again, too? Then reality -- to do it ALL again, all those years? It's a lot of work, and at times, I laugh at the idea of my child's father starting it all over again when we hit 40.......
Hopefully you found your music, and it helped you. I can understanding denial as a form of survival, if not utilized too often.
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