I must say I want to give myself a pat on the back for that cute little moniker right there. Momma-be. I love it.
Well, I have always dreamed of having kids – my very own adorable little critters that would give my life a different kind of meaning. I have always imagined myself on the hospital bed carrying my newborn child with the whole world giving me “the nod” and a huge “Congratulations Karen, you are no longer a little girl. You are now a woman and a kickass mother at that.”
But then, am I really ready for it? Actually, who am I kidding? At my age, I should have a couple already. My friends who are younger than me have settled down and have babies already, for God’s sake. But then, this friend of mine who, just like me, has always wanted to have kids of her own recently had a pregnancy scare. She has never in her life missed her period and by the second week of being delayed, and with her being almost sure that she was pregnant (though turns out she was not), her whole life slowly started to flash before her. “What the hell is the matter with you”, is what I told her, “this is what you have always wanted”. “Yeah but not as a surprise and not at the peak of my career” is all she said.
Hmm so that got me thinking. What if I were in her shoes? Wanting a child and actually being ready for one are two totally different things. I get jitters and palpitations with just the thought of having to give up so much for nine lingering months at the very least – like caffeine, or alcohol, or my precious death sticks, or dyeing my hair, or running everyday on a treadmill like a roadrunner being chased by Wile E. Coyote, or bar hopping, or club dancing till the wee hours of the morning, or surfing and getting wiped out and having to grasp for air, or having the limitless capacity to travel wherever and whenever I want – little things that add spice to my everyday life. And wait till the baby is born. All my time, efforts and earnings will now be devoted to that child. Traveling would be like a game with each grueling plane ride becoming a don’t-let-the-baby-cry-and-bug-the-whole-cabin challenge. My life will never be the same or maybe not until after a few years.
Maybe it would be worth it, though. Maybe there is an unexplainable and out-of-this-world type of fulfillment in giving birth to an actual living being. Maybe it is beyond words to explain the kind of thrill I would feel in seeing parts of me – physical features and personality – in my own child. Maybe it is the best feeling in the world to be loved by my child like I was the most important thing in the universe. And maybe, just maybe, I will enjoy every second of motherhood and each plane ride when my family travels would be a very fun and happy so-what-if-my-baby-is-crying-everybody-else-can-piss-off experience.
I guess when that time comes my priorities will just change naturally without me even noticing it. I would probably look back and realize how mundane and insignificant my jitters and worries were, once upon a time.
So back to my question…am I really ready for it? Let’s face it. People are always never fully ready for anything – never ready for marriage, never ready to have kids, never ready for a career change, never ready to take that big leap of faith…and the list goes on. Once you are there, though, arriving at that situation you were always intimidated with, there will always be that moment of realization that you were actually born ready for anything. No fear.
© Karen Cornejo, February 2013
Photo courtesy of coolhdr.wordpress.com.