Over the last decade, possibly more, I've taken notice of women who have biological clocks replacing heart beats while prospects for husbands--& naturally potential fathers--flat line. It started to be hip for women who refused to wait on the men to show up flexing their independence & making the decision to be single mothers. Women went to sperm banks, begged up on the kindness of male friends with good genes & clean family histories, or trapped disinterested dudes into making a deposit when he thought he was simply gettin' his thang wet.
As this social shift was being made, I kept thinking about the women I knew, including my own mother, who raised children alone. My mother's situation wasn't dire because my father was present, just not in my home. I had many friends, however, who clearly had another contributor to their DNA, yet I never saw anyone other than their mothers. & neither did they. Even with a father who participated in my upbringing I'm sure my mother wasn't interested in being a single mother. After all, parenting by nature doesn't occur without two participants. It would lead one to assume that there's something to this joint venture that should...oh, I'on'tknow...remain joint. I recognize that fathers who are more than the man who brings home the bacon & sits in his recliner chair while mama fries it up in the pan & keeps those damn children quiet isn't that far back in history. Even still, I can't support being a single parent from within a marriage either. I've seen that model & it's not sexy.
We can do anything we set our minds to, & how well we do it is up to us, but I still just can't get with the concept of single parenthood. That doesn't seem to mean anything to the friends who feel the maternal energy oozing from my person & respect my maternal instincts. "However you got to do it, Ndygo, you need to get it done." Uhmmm... I've wanted to be a mother since I was 3 years old. Yes, ladies & gentlemen, T H R E E. & I've been caring for someone's child or another since then. But then 12 years later a bomb was dropped on my teenage process of even beginning to work through what this woman thing is. In my understanding, it started with a womb, gotsta have a uterus to make that happen, & then the rest falls in place. Apparently not. I'm out here all sans womb, making the w-o part of woman seem somewhat obsolete. I was a mess, trust me, for no less than a decade & perhaps 2. The concept still makes no sense to me but I've made several kinds of peace with it depending on where my mind/heart/seasons/whims are at the time. In the last several years, I've felt OK about not being a part of the masses who take this risk to bring another life here healthy--cuz that's the ideal--& keep them that way physically, mentally, & emotionally. As a teacher, the split just seemed too dangerous to chance finding myself on the losing side of the ratio. I tend to play it safe.
The last few days have been a barrage of folks coming back at me to remind me of what they feel like is my destiny. Every couple of months or so Auburn Ave reminds me that I'm the smartest dumb person he knows--out here denying what's inside me to do. Science, according to him & Girl 6, is on my side. There's no excuse for me not making this thing happen. I can't guarantee things will stay as I wish them to once a little person is magically created turkey baster style, but I can at least want the foundation to be right. Right?!? Call me crazy but I just don't see the need to do this without being able to clearly identify who my partner in parenthood is going to be. Apparently, I think too small. This is debatable, but it falls in line with what I said just the other day about my life: it's time to do some grown up shit. Initially, I looked at it as the call to taking a risk & making this home ownership piece pop off sooner rather than later & stop putting it off for other big girl decisions. Perhaps, & this is all speculation, my desire to spread out & make room for more people & possibilities is indicative of another shift in my thinking. I do believe, as many of my friends do, that motherhood would unlock much of what I keep under close watch & release an even more phenomenal side to how I move in & with love. The idea of doing this dolo is neither cute nor soothing, but doesn't make it any less pressing. What my people hate the most is how easily I can disregard this pressure. I've lived this long on this side of things, reconciled who I am as a woman without a womb, & managed to do alright for myself thus far.
Can things be better? Absolutely. Should things be shaken up & be different? Perhaps. Am I ready? Is anyone? I don't know what's coming next, but I do feel as though the stage is being set for something. I've been let into this show for free so I'm going to kick back & continue to watch things unfold, stepping in for rewrites when I don't care for the direction things are moving in. One thing I need all my family & friends to understand is that while other women can slip & fall on a penis & create a miracle, it requires a great deal more thought, energy, & money for me to make this happen so I have to be sure. It's not as simple as rolling the die.
Watch me move.
Post Script-yesterday it came to me that The X is expecting with his current space filler. I'm doing the happy dance, but not for him. The info was revealed & I didn't shed a tear, break anything, or even so much as crease my face. When this same thing happened with The Boy 6 years ago, I made it home on autopilot, through a storm of tears, as I tried to figure out where a cliff might be in the d.dot (DC for those not in the know) so I could drive off. My smile still genuinely exists. Growth.