Srsly.
I am in my 30s so are most of my friends. My IRL friends, the ones I grew up with. The ones who would lie on the grass with me and stare up at the big blue sky and talk about when we have kids. 2 girls and 2 boys. We would raise them like this and not like that. We would dress them in adorable clothes, pick adorable names, and receive lots of kisses on our perfectly understanding of children cheeks.
Except it didn’t work out like that.
I had my baby. Of the girls I was closest too, am the only one. Not only am I the only one, but the others are facing the reality that those dreams of children are disappearing into the ether.
I asked Cara about it recently, did it bother her? I mean I can ask myself, I wanted lots of children and it didn’t work out like that for me either. My answer was a lot like hers, yes it does hurt at times, a poignancy that visits at times but we focus on other things in our lives.
Cara did mention that now that it didn’t seem likely that she would have children that she would get a nose job. Why? I asked incredulously, I mean she is beautiful. She has always wanted a cute little button nose though.
“Are you just looking for some way to dispose of income?” I asked. “No” she laughed, “I just didn’t want to bum out my kids if they were born with my nose and I was trying to tell them it looked great on them, but I couldn’t live with it”
I thought that rather thoughtful.
It is a point of interest to me though, all the reading I have done on infertility, how people claim it is worse than death and at the same time, not a single one of my friends claims a loss of meaning in their lives or even mentions except to note children aren’t in the cards for them.
It is relieving as trying to make up to my amom for her infertility was such a cross for me. I hope to lay it down soon.
Posted by addiepray on April 21, 2009 at 4:20 pm
You can count at least one of your on-line friends as not having lost all meaning in her life for lack of having children.
I do not get the fate worse than death thing at all.
I’ve always seen fate as a thing not to be messed with. It’s when you start messing with it that “worse than death”, as if they know anything is worse than death, starts coming into play.
I know this because my fate was messed with.
Posted by Kippa on April 21, 2009 at 8:21 pm
The fate worse than death crowd.
Bunch of hyperbolic R.I.P off artists.
Posted by Peach on April 21, 2009 at 8:31 pm
I so related to your post about this. For some strange reason none of my close friends have had children either, except for me. Two of my closest friends lament not having children and have talked about adopting. I think I “rain on their parade” because I tell them the losses involved. One of my friends talks about adopting a teenage foster child, which is a lot easier to swallow. It feels weird growing up adopted and then none of my non-adopted friends having the experience of motherhood. I am so thankful for having the experience of motherhood and being able to have at least one blood relative in a normal family relationship.
Posted by joy21 on April 21, 2009 at 9:20 pm
That is interesting Kippa, I mean yes as an adult, I can clearly see the hyperbole.
As a child I could not, even though my aparents would never, never be so dramatic. It did feel like my duty to fill that hole and I was so terribly inept as to create an innertorment that I suppose is unique to children.
Posted by Kippa on April 22, 2009 at 12:14 am
Of course a child would never be able to see it this way.
Children vibrate to the seismic waves created by their parents’ emotions.
Honestly, I couldn’t believe that anyone would use the phrase in a less than ironic way. So I did a quick google and right away I came up with this gem
http://www.suite101.com/article.cfm/infertility1/67406
“What it boils down to is this, infertility stinks. I think it’s a fate worse than death sometimes.”
Not that I’m unsympathetic (Moi?), but there’s something about that sort of overkill that simply slays me.
Of course it was originally used to describe a woman who had been raped or otherwise sexually dishonored. (Off the top of my head, the Victorians – Oliver Goldsmith, “When lovely woman stoops to folly”; Thomas Hood, “The Bridge of Sighs”)
So it’s interesting how it’s been co-opted.
Especially in all seriousness.
I’m pretty sure none of my child-free (as opposed to child-less) friends are eating their hearts out. Coincidentally, I spoke to one about this very subject this last weekend. She said she feels the rare twinge, but no more than that.
She has a rewarding job, many interests and good friends. Her life is full of meaning.