As much as I don’t want it to, waiting for my time to become a mom because the universe has its own schedule– is pretty much all consuming. I’ve hoped to not give it much thought,  ride the waves and let it flow until my body is ready for the opportunity to become a mom. Easier said than done. 

I can’t help but notice innocent comments now from girls around me, when referring to friends they know who are mother’s saying things along the lines of, “I don’t know how they do it, that is not the life for me.” — “I would die if I had to take care of kids.”– “That just doesn’t seem fun, I can’t imagine being a mom.” — “They make it work, but I would never want that life.” — “Ugh kids are just so much time and work– I like my life too much.”, etc, etc… Now, fully and totally– people have a right to say these things. Not everyone wants kids. I get it. It just become disheartening when that is all that you want right now and it’s all you can’t have. 

It hurts when I have to bite my tongue in these situations because I don’t want to seem like that weird girl in group that actually wants and is trying for kids. Maybe I shouldn’t care or maybe I should stand up for the women like myself, but I don’t. If I am being honest, I want to fit in and I don’t want to make anyone feel awkward or sympathy for me. I don’t want to open up my personal life enough to feel vulnerable anymore than I already have to others. But what about when I finally do fall pregnant and they don’t even realize the comments they shared with me. I’ve been pretty good up until this point, not caring about other peoples opinion on most aspects of life– if they differ from mine. Maybe, that is why I am writing this, because I have hardly felt this way before. I’ve never really felt like I had to hide what I wanted next in my life or my beliefs from other people.

After contemplating all these thoughts and opinions, it brings me to an even more confusing state… Why do I even want kids? What if I let this consume me so hard and then when the time finally comes to be, I hate? What if I end up hating being a mom? There is no going back. I know wholeheartedly that this IS what I want. It is just the elapsing of time of it not happening and having to deal with the outside world’s influences that make this become so confusing, when it shouldn’t. I feel the urge to keep writing about it because like I’ve made completely clear the situation and the thoughts wont leave my head even though I would like them to. 

This whole thing is so foreign to me– all the feels and emotions. That is probably why it is consuming me more than I want it to. It’s like joining a new ideology, where half of the population is agrees with your beliefs and the other half doesn’t and there is a distinct line between the two and it’s extremely present depending on which side you are spending time with. Maybe that is a little bit dramatic, but maybe not. 

 

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