Knocked Up

I feel like everyone in this world is preggers right now. I happily exclude myself from these statistics, but if you aren't (and don't want to get knocked up) I would stop reading now and make a conscious decision NOT to be my friend. It seems to be catching.

There is going to be a serious baby boom, beginning in May, I can feel it. My sister is due sometime during that month. I will be in Alaska already, so I consider it a good omen for little Gianna (who I will call GIGI). My first neice was born while I was in Alaska and I got to meet her when I came home the next month. It was a surprise visit and my little nugget of a neice was pretty cool. She still is. Gigi is going to be a great kid and I will be able to commisserate with her about what a giant pain in the ass big sisters can be (her mom is my big).

Other than that, not one, but three friends just came out of the closet about harboring a parasite (those with some tact and taste would say being pregnant). As a non-mother who has never been pregnant, I recognize it's perfectly natural to be pregnant. It is possibly the most natural thing ever, but if I have to support some little being off the nutrients I put into my body (and have to lay off the sauce) this thing is a parasite. It can stop being a parasite -- even during the pregancy-- once I have something human to associate with it, like a gender.

I am happy for my friends and family. Thrilled for most, in fact, but this is all tempered by ay n inward sigh of relief I breathe when I receive confirmation from my body that I am not pregnant.

I am 27 years old. I think I used to want to have babies by now, but now that I'm here, I have no desire. I broke up with the mercurial boyfriend on Monday and got my period on Tuesday. I was probably a little more thrilled than I usually am.

I would still love to have children one day. It's something I've always wanted to do, but I have now become comfortable with the idea of taking my 20s for myself, pursuing a career and developing interests (bolstered by my string of failed relationships and flings). So comfortable, in fact, that pregancy seems like it would be the worst thing in the world to happen to me.

It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that I have yet to meet a man who I would want to father my children. I think that's clutch. Maybe not for some people, but I just don't think I'm strong enough genetically, mentally of physically to make up for a real piece of shit baby daddy. I mess things up enough for myself, I can't go create another person to mess things up for.

Basically, the concept of being responsible for the creation of another human being for the rest of my life is a little too much for me right now.