Someone very dear to me made the comment recently that she hoped I wasn’t pregnant.
I thought, well, now that’s impossible. I’ve only been with Monsieur in the last 10 months and he’s been fixed. So it can’t be.
A month later: nausea (again) and other weird flu-like symptoms. What’s more, I’m late by a week. So, I do what any good, sensible girl does: I panic and freak out. Quietly. Then, I go to the drug store and pick up a home rabbit test.
The rabbit lived. Whew!
I so don’t want to be pregnant. Ever. I think I’m afraid of what it would do to me, my body, my peace of mind and my life. I used to tell people (boyfriends, my mom) that I didn’t think I was capable of taking care of children. Well, now that I’ve dived face-first into this life, I now know that I could, if I had to, take care of children, Because, well, I do, and I have to. I probably couldn’t take care of them all by myself, but with a husband working, I could do it. After all, that’s what I’m doing now.
So why am I afraid of birthing children? Apart from my slim tiny boyish hips, and all? I’m scared of pain. That’s all it is – I’m a wimp.
Now I know that all of you are chuckling to yourselves thinking, “Well, now someday Ms. Yearning Heart is gonna find herself knocked up and she’ll know for herself whether or not she could go through with it.” And I suppose that is a possibility. It’s also equally possible that I am a lesbian[1]. Or perhaps I am Larry King[2]. This is all possible.
I told Monsieur that I was worried about the pregnancy thing and he comforted me. It felt good, but what I wanted to hear was what would happen if I were to get pregnant. So, like a communicative person, who I hope that I am, I just asked him.
“If I were to get pregnant, what would we do?”
“You would make whatever decision you need to make, and I would support those decisions,” Monsieur replied.
“Suppose I decide to have the baby?” I asked.
“Then you would have the baby and I would support both of you.”
“Suppose I would want the baby to have a daddy?” I asked.
“The baby would have a daddy, if you would be so gracious as to consent for me to acknowledge the paternity,” he replied.
“Suppose … I would want to be married to the daddy?” I asked in a whisper.
“I can only hope for that,” he replied.
“You mean, you’d marry me if I got pregnant?” I didn’t expect that – I don’t know why not.
“You are a very eligible young woman, and I don’t think I would find anyone better for me or for my children,[3]” he answered.
I looked up at him, trying to be calm, but I started to tremble and he held me tighter.[4] It would have been perfect had he nailed me right then and there, but he didn’t – even when I tried to get him to, he asked me to wait a bit.
OK, blogmates … what does that mean exactly? Am I somehow leading up to Connubia with this guy? Is that what I want?[5]
[1] I’m not. OK… I had a crush on Maggie. But she was the first one, and while I wouldn’t have kicked her or Cate Blanchett out of bed, I’m all about the cock.
[2] I’m not. OK… I liking asking people impertinent questions. But I do not own a single pair of suspenders.
[3] Are you taking notes, guys? That is the correct answer!
[4] Yearn, yearn, yearn.
[5] My heart yearns, even as my brain screams “Now hold on just a New York minute here!”
3 comments:
Wow, well glad your not pregnant. They say the pain doesn't last. I don't know, I had an emergency c-section with my first, and so my second came the same way. And c-sections are probably easier in the way of giving birth, but a way longer recovery, with a not so appealing scar. You body is meant to have babies, it really does help you with the work. So don't be afraid.
I think its fantastic that Monsieur is willing to step up, and not leave you hanging. Its always great to talk about the possiblilities first, that way you know how to react if it ever did happen. I would just be more careful if you don't want kids right now, tell Monsieur to wear a raincoat lol.
I don't know what it is I'm afraid of, but the idea of being pregnant really scares me.
I could say it was the pain, the scars, the danger, but that's not it. Maybe those stupid Kansas public school "health and hygeine" classes scarred me for life; you know, those "Girls! Don't let this happen to YOU!" videos.
I went off the pill last March and I'm wondering now that I'm back on a health plan if I should just get back on it, just in case. I know it's a small chance of getting pregnant from a vasectomized man but there's a chance.
And I am NOT for letting anything come between us, "down there". No raincoats.
OH MY.
What a thing to say! Does he mean it? How dreamy...
As far as the pain of childbirth, yah, it is a true and undeniable bitch. But it is also an amzing testimony to yourself of how much you can endure. I labored for 24 hours with my son (and I mean hard core labor) and ended up having a C-section at the end anyway. A lot of women tell me that's a bitch, that I should have just had the C-section to begin with, but I wanted to try. I wanted to KNOW. And now I do know. I know I am a hell of a lot more powerful than I would have ever believed.
That's empowering. It's beautiful.
Now....I am intruiged by Monsieurs words. Hmmm...
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