The ticking of the biological clock is no joke, y'all.
About eight months ago I wrote a scathing piece about the pressure to have children and my general distaste for all things gestational. My, my, how the world does change.
My fears about pregnancy, labor in particular, remain. However, the strangest things are happening biologically, and I don't feel I have control over my body. I experience four distinct reactions to my monthly cycle.
- Week one: Horrible PMS. Bloating, cramping, and certain days where the world seems inky and terrible. I have not had this kind of uteran spasms or moodiness since I was 15.
Another thing I find myself doing is staring at babies on the street. I become absolutely riveted by Trinidadian nannies pushing buggies. Mothers and fathers carrying little ones in Baby Bjorns make me teary. I picture myself hugging my sweet toddler close and imagine trips to the park down the block. It's all very foreign to me.
I kept my burgeoning motherhood desires to myself for several months, thinking it was some sort of weird hormonal thing that would pass, but it hasn't. So, a few weeks back I decided to present the proposal to my wife.
"Babe, I think I want to have a baby."
"Whaa?" she responded, almost choking on a chunk of avocado. "Like have have a baby?"
"Yes, like get pregnant and birth one," I said.
"Bunny, what do you mean?! What happened? I thought you said you didn't want to do that!" The tone of her voice was simultaneously shocked and ecstatic.
"It's not me, babe. It's my body. I can't explain it."
We went on to discuss how we might accomplish the baby-making plan, given that she lacks the obvious machinery. Neither one of us really knows how it works or what to do. We also have an impossible list of preferences when it comes to the type of child we'd like to have: the top tier is a lesbian, queer, or straight girl, followed by a transgender or genderqueer child, then a gay boy, and in last place a straight male. Fair? Probably not.
My worries kicked in: What if the baby is a psychopath? What if we end up with a monkey-like superjock who hates us? Will labor hurt too much? Will I get fat? How can we make enough money to pay for $40,000-plus in schooling for the next 24 years?
One thing I'm certain of is that I'll be a good mom. I'll love my kid and offer my unwavering support always. I want him/her/zer to have what I feel I didn't: freedom of individuality.
My wife is now over the moon. The day after we talked, she came home from work early and said, "Let's go to the bank. I want to open a savings account for the baby."
In January I'll start the research and begin doctor visits. We'd like to get pregnant next year. I have no idea what this process will be like. A zillion questions race through my mind every time I think about pregnancy. In the coming months I'll write about what I discover, and I'll bring you along for the ride.
Baby on board!
Help! Send me your tips and stories about pregnancy to my Twitter handle @juicyjincey or Facebook.com/JinceyLumpkin. My next column will about my experiences with BDSM and kink. Meow.