Wednesday, November 30, 2005

To Birth or Not to Birth

I've got a bit of a dilemma. I'm at that age when my friends are recorking the wine and heating up the infant formula. The pressure's on. The in-laws and my own parents are getting that wistful, misty-eyed look: when are you selfish bastards going to give us our grandchildren?!?!?!

The baby showers are coming faster than the wedding showers now. In fact, I'm going to yet another baby shower this weekend. And I just bought the gift at Geoffrey, which only got on my nerves a little. (I worked at KB Toys for 7 years in high school and college, so there's some of that residual resentment of the competition/general impatience with whiny spawn I don't know.) Oh, but the baby section smelled so...infanty and sweet!!! And just about a week ago I read some graph that indicated my chances of conceiving at this age are only about 50% now, and dropping fast.

The longer I wait, the more dried up I'm getting. My eggs are frying, getting scrambled, cracking up! But I'm not ready to push another person from my loins and minister to his or her every dietary, developmental, entertainment, and personal hygiene need just yet, because I feel I'm on the cusp of maybe, possibly achieving my dream of becoming a published author (*sending good energy in the direction of NYC where the powers that be are mulling my fate*). Also, because I've fallen in love with some of the children here: The man who runs this orphanage hails from my best friend's brother-in-law's family, and my BFF is possibly volunteering there for a few months this spring. Of course I want to go with her and adopt all of these beautiful children and bring them home with me and love them forever. (My husband just called me a typical woman and accused me of wanting to save all of the little babies with flies in their noses...ah, the dear man I married. What a softy!!!!)

So the clock keeps tick-tocking along. My ovaries are getting lazy, laying on the couch watching soaps and stuffing bon-bons in their lazyass mouths. (Scratch that. I just pictured ovaries with actual mouths and got really creeped out.) I feel like I've still got time, but if it runs out, there's thousands of fly-eyed orphans just waiting for a good home.


  1. Anonymous8:18 PM

    Hey girl~

    We'll hope your fly-eyed children don't eventually read your blog ;-) Jason's eloquence comes shining through once again ;-)

    Oh yes, and thanks for reminding me of my upcoming birthday... as my ovaries are in rocking chairs shriveling up and knitting sweaters as I type. And you will always be younger than I.


  2. Anonymous11:08 AM

    tick tock tick tock