New Reactions

Yesterday I was sitting having a coffee and I over heard this woman talking about how she just found out she is pregnant.

Usually when I hear women talk about how they are pregnant I am happy for them. I always think "how nice for you" or "congratulations" and I when I say it to the expected mother I mean it. It comes from a place of sincerity.

But yesterday I was surprised by my initial reaction. I didn't think to myself "oh how wonderful for her" Because it was not happiness I felt for her. I felt jealous. It caught me off guard. I found it to be a very strange reaction.

It was on par to when I was just dating Matty and I would hear of people getting engaged.

I know that I want to have kids. But I still feel like maybe I am not ready. Like maybe I should go to Italy again just once more. That I should loose twenty more pounds. That I should pay off one more credit card. That I should save a little but more money.

But I know I can do those things pregnant. I can do those things with a baby. I guess there is nothing really stopping us. We just need to do it (no pun intended you dirty birds)

But what if I become one of those moms that I make fun of? The kind who are no sugar Nazis or who have no life because their entire social life revolves around play days and jamboree? What if I start to wear mom jeans? What if my car starts to smell like milk and crayon? What if I become a republican? What if I stop doing anything fun because "we have got a kid now so adult time is not an option"; something I am told so often by people we know with children.

Or worse,

What if I fuck it up? What if I am a horrible parent and my child grows up to hate me? What if I am the kind of parent who thinks I am a good parent but really, I am just awful? What if my child is a total terror and makes his/her teachers want to quit their jobs?

Honestly, I think we can raise a child. I think we can keep it from harm. I think we can take care of it. That part doesn't scare me. But it's all the other stuff that scares the crap out of me.

And it's not one of those things where if you realize it's a bad idea you can get out of it. Like a bunk mortgage or a shady deal on E-bay. It's a person. A living human being. There is no getting out of it. Once you are in. You are in. Forever.

My head hurts. I think too much.

Maybe I should not obsess so much about this. Maybe I should just keep my head in a good place, get as much as my shit together as I can and just jump in. And hopefully I won't loose myself in the process.

I am not sure when I am making the leap. It might be sooner that later. But mark my words. When I do become a mom I assure you this, I will never. EVER. Wear mom jeans or drive a mini van.