Melancholy

I am at the point where I really must come to terms with the fact that I won't be a Mom. It has hit me this week for some reason.

When I was younger, parenthood was something that I might want someday, and there always was a someday. Now, there is no longer a someday. I'm over 40 by a few years. While it's still theoretically possible, it's very unlikely. And if I were to become pregnant now, I'd have to deal with having very few new-mom peers my age. I'd go to PTA meetings with 20-somethings. I'd be the other kids' Grandma's age.

The irony is that I don't really feel old. I feel more mature...in the sense that I'm more of a "grown up" now. In fact, I finally feel qualified to be a parent.

Lots of people don't have children. One of the struggles I have is that I have no models for being a happy, fulfilled adult without children. Most models of adults involve their being defined by their children (when they're my age). If they don't have children then they desperately want them and live a shell of a life for the lack of a baby. In the popular media, the only interesting thing that a woman does is get pregnant. And such hilarity ensues! The goofy klutzy husband/dad-to-be! The struggles with those silly mood swings! But it's all worth it when the perfect bundle of joy arrives amid drama and heartwarming circumstances.

Where are the models of adults who live a good life without offspring and that's it?

In my family, the majority of my contemporary cousins have children. Indeed, those of us who don't are female. Of those cousins who are parents, there are 4 men (100%) and one woman (25%) . Curious. The message of being a strong, independent woman in charge of her fertility certainly sank into three of us. We weren't going to be "trapped" by the "burden" of motherhood.

Well, that was the message I got from my family. The males got the message that they should let the women decide. So, they married (or hooked up with, in one case) women who decided they wanted children. All-righty, sure, if that's what you want honey, the males said, and lo and behold, there were grandchildren.

I can't blame my family entirely. I am not stupid - I did (and do) know what I was doing. However, as I've said in an earlier post, it did take me a while to realize what life is really about.

It's a change. It's an option that is essentially closed for me. That's different. Ever since I reached menarche, the goal has been not to become pregnant. Pregnancy was this time bomb just waiting to explode and ruin my life and everyone's life around me at any time without forewarning, so I needed to defend against it constantly. Now there is nothing to defend against. Before, I could always change my mind. Now, I can't.

It's kinda like when the cold war was over. Who am I, now that the "enemy" is gone and no longer defines me?

This I must discover.