I’ve been thinking about something recently I hope you can help me with.
For some reason, I’ve never actually been jealous of other people’s children. When I look at them, it just confirms to me that I want my own child. I don’t want theirs. I love all my nieces and nephews and friend’s babies. I am very grateful that for some reason I don’t feel jealous. I really thought I would, but I don’t. I haven’t been jealous right from the start. At first I thought I cooed over babies and loved them because I knew someday very soon I would have my own; then as time passed on and that became more unlikely, I still felt the same.
At the end if the day, when the babies pop out and I go to see them, my main thoughts are:
“Yep, you look like your parents. Bit weird to see it smushed into such a tiny little face.”
“Oh cute, it yawned!!”
“And got hicuups!!”
“Oh wow, it’s loud for something so small.”
“It definitely doesn’t look like a baby mouse/rat/hamster.”
“It’s wearing a little outfit!”
(In a secret whisper…) “I think it smells of poo, going to give it back now”*
It’s almost like I go right off them once they are born. I think they are cute and all, but there’s no jealousy there. No particularly strong emotion at all.
I do however get a major, sudden sinking feeling when I hear someone is pregnant. I even dread having of-children-bearing-age friends round, just incase, ya know. (Isn’t that mean?!) It’s the same feeling you get if you sent an email to the wrong person at work, or you realise you left the door unlocked, the gas on, your hair curlers on… a sudden realisation. That cold feeling that sinks your entire body in an instance. It’s not dissimilar to terror. I had to call the emergency services a while ago when I saw a man get run over in the street. A sudden terror. Sudden, cold, sinking, dread. That’s the bit I find hardest – when someone else is pregnant. Once the baby arrives, I love them so much I think it knocks sense into me. Or I look at them and see their father and it creeps me out, whatever.
It makes me angry that someone else’s amazing, brilliant news, someone I love, will result in me feeling something I associate with terror. It’s like flight or fight innit? Such a wrong thing to feel about a new life. I’m ashamed of myself.
On some level it worries me that I am so zen with other people’s children. Does that mean I will never have my own? Has some higher power erased that feeling from me? I really can’t imagine myself with children. The only time I ever did (aside from the first year of “trying”… God, I hate that term, remind me to never say that again), was this week when I had 3 of the most vivid baby dreams I’ve ever had. Universe, I think you know what I’m going to say (“piss off” if you haven’t read any of my other posts.. By which I mean, “universe piss off”, don’t you piss off! Noo! Come back! You look lovely! I would never say that! Mostly never I mean, depends I guess on what you are saying. Don’t look at me like that).
I remember my mum telling me when I was about 18 that she had trouble conceiving me. Her younger brother had children before she did, but she felt the same as I did… That she looked at her nephews and nieces, she looked at her friends’ children and she thought they were lovely but she wanted her own. Err, and then she got me. Win?
Geez, I have no idea where this is going. Wanna play the word game? I remembered a corker: flaccid. That word is wrong on so many, million levels. Anyways, one of my bestest friends came over today with her 6 month old twins. Maybe hence the post. It was so lovely to see them, and they are such cuties, I love them so much. I don’t understand why I can’t have that in my life? If I believed the Universe, I’d think she was telling me it wasn’t going to happen.
*THIS IS IMPORTANT EVEN THOUGH IT’S JUST A STAR.. Real nappies. Real nappies. Really? How many of you have been pooed on? ‘Cos I have been pooed and weed on a lot, and the cherubs have always been in “real nappies”. Why not just wrap ’em in a fig leaf kids? Probably would have got less poo on me.