It’s Day 2 and I’m back at it again with a fresh blog! What a streak!
First, let me start with a HUGE thank you to those who dropped in to read my post from yesterday. I wasn’t thrilled with the way it came out, but I received some encouraging words from friends and readers saying they were happy to see a new post. It still shocks me when people tell me they enjoyed a post and it was something they could relate to, or got them through the day. Hearing that pushes me forward and I’m forever grateful. You’re all the best!
Today’s writing prompt is an interesting one: When is the last time you did something brave? What happened?
Damn, BlogHer, why you gotta make me feel feelings and shit?
Ok, fine. Here we go.
I wish the bravest thing I did was something fun, like jumping out of a plane, or running with the bulls (I would never), or anything that gets your adrenaline rushing and walk away with a good story. Nope. Not me, guys. Here’s the last bravest thing I’ve done: admitted, out loud, to my partner, I want to have a child.
I’ve kind of talked about this before, but it’s still very relevant to me. Even writing this makes me nervous. Now, you may be saying, “Marie, so what, people do this all the time. It’s not BRAVE.” Well, I think you’re wrong. It’s a really difficult thing to say. What if they don’t feel the same way? What if it’s interpreted as being pushy? What if they just tell you to fuck off? The what-ifs are endless.
My whole adult life, I’ve conditioned myself to believing I didn’t want to have kids. People would ask and I would laugh in their face with a resounding “NOPE.” Thoughts of me raising a child were in fact quite absurd to me. I was the youngest of three in my family, the two older boys who weren’t exactly the picture of nurturing. I had a few babysitting stints, but nothing consistent enough to make me feel like I had a clue in what I was doing.
Then, about four years ago, things changed. Drastically. Babies were popping up and out everywhere. It seemed like all of my friend’s biological clocks synced up and I was hit with a deluge of pregnancy news. Even then, I still felt right in my decision. Then, slowly, I started having thoughts of what it would be like to have a child of my own. They were fleeting at first, and then steadily gained speed. Each time I would hear the good news, my brain would switch and I would think that yes, I wanted to do that too. At the time, my marriage was basically dead and gone, but I didn’t want to not bring it up. It was met with a resounding no. As much as I wanted it, I knew it wasn’t going to happen, and for good reason. People told me to just trick him, what’s the big deal? I could never live with myself in doing that. If you’re in a relationship, that decision should be mutual. Clearly, it wasn’t and that was the end of that discussion (and marriage).
I managed to push the thought out of my head and heart, thinking I missed my opportunity. Now I’m in a committed relationship with someone who has a child and BAM!…there’s those feelings again. The friends who announced their first pregnancies are now on their second, sometimes third. Time marches but man, does it march slowly.
It’s not easy putting this out there, but if you notice, I like to do things the hard way. These are discussions we’ve had and will continue to have. I have no idea what the future will bring and certainly am not rushing anything. I’m being honest and I have to believe there are others out there who feel the same way I do. Sometimes I feel like a total failure, like I’ve missed my opportunity. Other times I feel hopeful. I feel grateful 100% of the time that I have someone who I can have a discussion with and who understands my position.
Even if it doesn’t happen for me (a very real possibility), I feel better having said it out loud to the instead of pushing it further down. I’m in love with my life and my new family. Having a little one around has changed my outlook on life and how I move through it, all for the better. I wouldn’t change that for the world.