This is probably something I shouldn’t admit on a blog about trying to have a child. But I don’t like kids. Not really anyways. I mean I love my neices, and my friends kids, but do I want to spend a lot of time with them? Not particularly. Stay with me I promise I’m going somewhere with this.
There was a point in my life that I questioned if I even wanted kids (in the not-so-distant past). J and I weren’t ready to start trying yet, but we always made mention of our future child/children and it got me thinking; do I want kids, or is it just what’s been ingrained into me? Was I just following the traditional order of things, that’s what you do, grow up, get married, have children? I had never stopped to question it until it was bearing down on me. But after giving it a lot of thought, I felt like I would always regret it if I didn’t have a child/children, and J is my perfect man, and I want HIS child/children.
Even still, creating another life, one that you are responsible for and will change you forever is a big and scary thing, so for the first few months of trying, when I would get a negative test or my period would arrive I would have a slight sigh of relief (along with annoyance and frustration). It’s funny how you can want something, but also be scared to have it. After several months of trying though, it made me realise how deeply I do want a child. It has made me hyper aware of moms and moms-to-be and I’m jealous that they have what I want. The sigh of relief has completely faded and the dissapointment grows with each failed cycle.
But back to the fact that I am not a “kid person”. This was another reason I wasn’t really sure I should have kids. How can you want kids, yet not like them? Well, the way I see it, is I just am not a huge fan of other people’s kids. I know I will love and adore my own child/children. How do I know? Well let me tell you a little story, that made me understand a mother’s love.
I have two dogs (I know, I know, before you roll your eyes, I realise dogs are not children) that are my fur babies. Growing up I had a cat, who I loved to death, and I never really was a dog person. The year J and I started dating, him and his brother (who lived together at the time) got a dog. A little, adorable white furball of a thing. He was very cute, and fairly mild mannered so I didn’t mind him, but he wasn’t my dog. Even when J’s brother moved away and left the dog with J and I he still wasn’t really my dog (even though, technically he was now). His master was J (even though we both took care of him) and that’s who he loved the most.
When I still lived at home, my first beloved kitty had to be put down, but my mom and I hated having an empty house with no kitty, so I adopted another (grown) cat. Shortly thereafter I moved in with J and had to leave the cat behind because J is deathly allergic. I had always wanted to get another cat, but with J’s allergies I had to face facts that that wasn’t going to happen. So if I couldn’t have a cat I decided I was going to get myself a little cat-like dog. So after doing tons of research on different breeds, I threw caution to the wind and we adopted a rescue dog of unknown origins. He was just a little guy, but he was only 4 months so we figured he’d get a little bigger, but still small enough to be a lap dog.
Turns out his paperwork was wrong, and he was 9 months old, and fully grown at 9 lbs. This time I truly felt like he was my dog; I had to interview to get him (that’s right folks, I had to submit to a character interview for a dog, yet every day idiots get pregnant by accident). I got to pick his name (well, I changed it from what the rescue society had named him), his bed, his toys, and him. He’s really cute, but a bit funny looking from his mixed breeds (whatever he is). A face only a mother could love, says my mom. Though lots of other people think he’s cute too. His personality wins everyone over (now do I sound like a mom or what!?). We’ve had him for a little over two years now and I could not love the little guy more. He is my baby and I would do anything for him.
But the thing is, I’m still not really a dog person. I am definitely more tolerable of them, and I do think a lot of them are super adorable, but I mostly just like my dog. Dogs are a pretty big responsibility, he is a lot of work, and sometimes he pisses me off but I still love him more everyday. As silly as this sounds it made me realise that if I love a dog this much, I can’t even imagine how it would feel to have my own little person. I think my heart could burst.
So I have my fur babies, and J and I love them dearly, but I still have more love to give. The thought of parenthood still freaks me out (but seriously, who isn’t nervous for that kind of responsiblity?) but do I want it wholeheartedly? Heck yes. So bring it on Universe. I’m waiting…!
*I use child/children because at this point we might have to stop at just one. If we’re even so lucky.
*This is not me, but I figured the photo capture my sentiment perfectly.