Isehara After my four post day yesterday, there came the thought that I would give a full introspective essay on what “The King of Pop” meant to me in life and, now, in death. (Aside: You can thank Elizabeth Taylor for his title.) But all I’ve heard, from the moment the news broke, is everyone talking about him, praising his music, trying to step lightly on his life, and what it all means now that he is gone. As such, I feel no need to add to that cacophony.
Instead, I want to talk about how excited I am for my best friend’s baby shower tomorrow. I know I haven’t mentioned it before, but my BFF is very pregnant and due in the coming months. Our whole friend-group is excited. I’m sure her family is elated. It’s pleasantly odd, the “village” type atmosphere that is surrounding this little life.
I’m hoping it’s a girl. We don’t know, though. She was shy in ultrasounds, so they couldn’t tell. I think it’s a good thing, though. It adds to the excitement and anticipation.
Having a close group of friends like we do, it’s amazing to realize that with yet another step in our, gasp, adult lives, things will change. I choose to believe it will be for the better. This child will grow up with so much love and support, I am almost envious of her good fortune. But instead, I am happy to be a part of it.
Of course this situation has made me think long and hard about becoming a mother one day. My mom had me when she was 31 and it was not on purpose. Now, with an SO I love and care for, the thoughts of us having a child have crept up. [Aside: My landlord asked if we wanted a two bedroom with a “family room”; I believe that was a subtle question about possible procreation.]
What I have learned, as the months have passed with my friend, is the reality of a child is beautiful and scary. Yes, you are bringing a new life into this world, which is amazing. But, with that, you are taking on the wonderful with the complicated. Her baby registry alone is intimidating. The thought that a life is now in your hands and is your responsibility for the next 18 yrs, at minimum, is overwhelming. Yes, I want to be a parent, but I don’t want to fool myself into thinking it will be easy or simple.
And, with that realization, I know I am not ready yet. Realistically, I want to give it at least a year. I want to be settled. I want to find more balance in my life. I want to know that I could provide for my child, emotionally and financially, and that my SO and I are comfortable and prepared. In short, I still need some growing up to do.
But, in the interim, my little niece is going to have lots of loving aunts & uncles to play with and puke on.
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