This year marks the 11th anniversary that I threw my contraceptives away in the trash with a big ta-da and followed with some uncoordinated dancing in the hallway.
That was a lifetime ago and if you had told me then I would be sitting here officially giving up on ever being somebody's parent well I would have harbored a serious skepticism. I mean I have already been through so much and managed to get out the other side after climbing through miles of metaphysical horseshit; I felt it was impossible that universe would lay THAT on me as well.
Recently after two minutes of serious consideration of pulling a "Raising Arizona" on that low rent Jolie Octo-mom with the 14 kids, I have since decided to officially hang up the baby towel.
I did everything I thought I was supposed to do, I saved 25% of my pay. I went without things. I bought a house that I disliked because it was inexpensive and available to me so I would have money and credit and equity down the road just in case the impossible happened.
I tried to be a decent person and not the stagnant kind but the kind who constantly re-examines who she is and how she treats people and where she can do better and give more and fuck up less.
I wasn't even being greedy - I just wanted the one kid, I didn't even care much about what flavor it was.
My reasoning was that I have watched a fair few people die, I just thought watching somebody live would be a nice change for me.
A different change came instead, my savings got blown out by my mother's extended illness, my 401K and my property value have both dropped below half of their previous value. Selling my things on Ebay has turned out to be gravely disappointing, it turns out nobody else has any more spare cash than I do. I preened through my company's policy about covering adoption costs, it is only a reimbursement program.
I always suspected I would be pretty bad at the whole motherhood thing anyhow, teachers would have despised me, and my ghost children would have been perpetually embarrassed over their freak mother. Once they hit their teenage years and rebelled against my artistic, tree-hugging, pie-wagon liberal ways perhaps I would have inadvertently spawned another Dick Cheney - perhaps I am saving the world by not parenting.
At least that is what I am going with for now.
God, or the Universe or the Loa or Fate or my Subjective consciousness has instructed me repeatedly and pointedly to go build the things I need to build, I guess they meant without delay or distraction.
I guess I had better get started.