A large number of my female friends have either just had a baby or just gotten pregnant - it is literally going around right now. I'm in the prime of my. . .well, not exactly my childbearing years, but the prime time to start worrying and freaking out that perhaps my eggs have dried up or flown away in little fallopian helicopters. . . that my biological clock has stopped ticking, that's actually my doomsday tick-tock I hear. . .
You know what? It's good news every time I hear it - I love hearing about a new birth or a new pregnancy and hearing all about the pregnancy mood swings (many husbands have near-death experiences) and weird cravings (brownies and chili peppers, anyone?) or how the baby poops a lot or not at all, already has smelly feet and doesn't sleep - it's actually a really fun topic because everyone freaks out about something different and it's always entertaining.
As much as I love hearing about these things, I don't really yearn to experience them. It sounds like pregnancy and child-birth pretty much ravage your body and your mental state. Your boobs become flat pancakes so you look like something out of National Geographic. All the king's horses and all the king's cocoa butter can't do much for those stretchmarks that look more like tire treads. Goodbye freedom, peaceful meals, laundry only once a week, time for myself, good hair days, etc. I like the idea of adopting, but I also like the idea of more kittens.
When a friend or family member has a baby, I like to visit pronto and get my hands on that little darling. Even when they are dirty, they just smell so good and they are so cute and tiny and mushy and sweet. Then I go home. Maybe I was meant to be a grandparent only?
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