Posts Tagged ‘Nuva Ring’

“More than one, less than five”

April 10, 2009

I have so much I want to blog here, but it’s time to put up or shut up about both “wanting children” and “wanting to blog about wanting children.”

Last night, I realized that I need to start procreating so I can not be the youngest at the seder table and have to say the Four Questions into eternity!

I feel like more and more, my mission is both to work on my creative output, and to find a way of life that will be suitable for kids. A way of living, not just in terms of work/life, but how I treat my leisure time. I constantly feel so guilty about work I’ve fallen behind on, and what I “mean to” do, and that has to stop.

I also am about to go on the Nuva Ring. I tried the Pill but totally couldn’t remember to take it, which my doctor assured me is totally fine. I’m nervous, both about my ability to put it in correctly (I know it only has one place to go, it just seems so weird), and also, well, it seems antithetical to this super strong desire for children I have. I know that it’s not permanent, and that I’m not ready to literally get pregnant right now, but still…it feels strange, like I’m defeating myself.

Also strange is that I’m now dating someone and we’ve talked about my desire to have kids, but I have no idea how he feels. There was a moment when I totally could’ve asked, and I didn’t. It was a funny conversation, me being typically neurotic, wondering whether humanity is mostly good or mostly evil. “If you think it’s mostly evil, it wouldn’t really make sense to have kids and bring them into this evil world,” I said. I think he cited Hannah Arendt, and we philosophized, and then all of a sudden, he goes, “So how many do you want to have?” It was funny, and cute, and sortof cut to the chase.

“More than one, less than five,” I said, after pausing for a few minutes. I was an only child and I don’t want to do that to my kid. Not that it was so awful, because I got a lot of time alone with each parent, especially cause they were divorced and mostly single while I was growing up. But I see so many pairs of kids, see how they relate to one another, how they have this other little person to learn from and look out for and adore. I read my friend Elise Miller’s post about how at the playground she goes to, her two kids are no big deal, the norm, whereas three is the real status symbol.

I read Lori Gottlieb’s (Yes, Lori Gottlieb who wrote the article on not settling for The Atlantic, and who parlayed that into a book and movie deal for Marry Him! Finding Mr. Real.) essay “Planned Parenthood” in Hilary Black’s anthology The Secret Currency of Love: The Unabashed Truth About Women, Money, and Relationships about choosing not to have a second child as a single mom because of the cost and found it…alienating. I do know that children cost money, and yes, when I truly think about it, I fear I will never be able to afford one, let alone “more than one, less than five.” But I also have to believe that the universe, and, probably, my family, will provide in some way to enable me to be a mother when I’m ready.

It’s weird to have that out there, that I want to have kids, and to not know what he thinks. Everything else about what we’re doing is wonderful, but it’s a tough question to bring up. It’s not something casual, especially because if he tells me categorically he never wants them, I’ll have to either break up with him (and we haven’t even “officially” become bf/gf or anything) or continue to be with him but know that I’m not helping my chances of finding someone to raise children with.

I don’t know. Sometimes I think it’ll never happen, that I’m getting too old and am still so…unfinished. Maybe I’ll want to go back to school, get an MBA or a writing degree. Ideally, I’d be home writing freelance articles and novels while babies nurse and run around. That’s my vision, but I don’t even know if I would like that, if I could stand it. I think it’s what I want, but I’m not sure. I want to do the right thing, at this moment, in terms of birth control, because when I do get knocked up, I want to be able to tell my kid(s) they were wanted, planned for, desired, not the result of me being lazy and horny. It just feels like I’m in the wrong life, this blasé single girl city one, when I want to be barefoot and pregnant with a laptop.

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