I’ve technically been old enough to have a baby since I was like fourteen. But I wasn’t exactly doing anything that could cause that to happen. And by “not exactly,” I mean, “not at all.” When my friends and I started having sex, we were all completely terrified of getting pregnant, as most girls, I’d assume, are.
And when I say terrified….You know the way your mind can start mapping out possible paths sperm might take to your uterus? It calculates that they can get there from improbable distances, over nearly insurmountable obstacles. Much like salmon, really. Those salmon, leaping and leaping until they clear the waterfall, swimming upstream.
I’ve taken a pregnancy test a few times, mostly out of paranoia, and each time, it’s the tensest minute ever. For a second, when the little minus sign forms, I think it’s a plus—OH MY GOD. NO. THIS ISN’T HAPPENING. Oh. Wait. It really isn’t happening. Yay! Sheesh, what the hell was I worried about? I’m obviously not pregnant.
There was never any chance that I was in any condition to raise a child at that point. And I also didn’t want to find out what the emotional ramifications of abortion were. The trick was not to get pregnant.
(click here for image source. This is not the baby I refer to in the rest of this piece. That baby is much more perfect.)
And yesterday a friend of mine had a baby. A real baby. Her name is Lily. She’s really tiny, as babies tend to be. My friend is twenty-five. She looked amazing pregnant. She is really excited about being a mom. She took the whole being pregnant thing in stride. Literally, too. She was walking all over the city. She kept wanting to talk about other things.
I’d be like, “So, you’re pregnant.”
She’d say, “Yup. How are the wedding plans coming along?”
I’d say, “I can’t believe you’re going to have a baby.”
She’d say, “Found a florist yet?”
I’d say, “Like, a real baby, y’know? A real one. It’s totally inside you right now. And then it’s going to come out, and there’s going to be this person. A PERSON.”
It’s no wonder she doesn’t want to hang out with me anymore. But seriously, there’s something strange and jarring about having arrived at a point in life when people are having babies. When people are just ready to do that. I can’t quite comprehend it. She is a mother now, and I am definitely still a kid.
I told my fiancé, “I feel suddenly immature.”
He laughed and said he did too. But that he liked being immature with me. Sometimes we act like complete idiots together, and do funny voices and weird faces. I mean once we just walked around the apartment with the stupidest walks we could come up with. It’s like that.
Which is not to say that people can’t do that after they have a baby. But I can’t imagine it, because having a baby seems like the biggest deal in the world. And I mean that. The biggest deal. In the world.
Anyway, welcome to the world, Lily! You’re the biggest deal!
I’ll try to come to terms with your existence. I’m working on it now.
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Un-Roast: Today I love the way my body looks when I look down on it on the mat at gym. It looks longer than I expect it to, and sort of alien. I’m not used to seeing it from that angle yet. Saying those words requires me to link my friend Jamie’s blog, On the Mat. What’s your un-roast? Zoe (my faithful un-roaster)’s un-roast from yesterday was, “i like my legs today. i usually do but i like them a little extra today because i realized they no longer chafe in the summer heat like they used to! that and they’re strong enough to carry me on a seven mile run i’m about to undertake!” I can’t say that I support the post I just linked her name to, though, since it says something crazy about “divorcing chocolate.”
Thoughts on babies? I know a lot of you, being much more mature than me, actually have them.
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