Fertility, & the lack thereof, has been popping up all over my radar lately. You know those things that you would never even notice if you weren’t reproductively challenged? Yeah, it’s those kind of things.
Number One: Anna Paquin. Now, as an admitted “Truebie,” I love some Anna Paquin. I love the gap between her teeth, I love that she married Vampire Bill in real life (although, if given the choice, I would have had her marry Eric), & I love her portrayal of sassy, southern Sookie. And recently, I read an article that fully sealed my devotion for her… US Magazine interviewed her & of course asked the inevitable question that one asks of any married woman. Yes, they asked her about babies. Her response:
If I’m blessed with a body that will give them to me! Or even if I’m not. There are many ways to make a family.
Love you, Anna Paquin. You’re awesome.
Number Two: Maggie came over this past Wednesday night for our first “big girl sleepover.” It was perfect for both of us — I felt no pressure to balance attention between her & Sadie, & she was thrilled to take her rightful place as the center of the universe. We ate popcorn & m&m’s, wore fuzzy socks, & even slept together. Well, she slept. I fended off little bony elbows & started awake every time she talked in her sleep. And she informed me that her pillow made her head hot, so she needed to share mine. So we slept on the same pillow, on the same side of the bed, & even though I didn’t really sleep much, it was precious. Part of our Maggie-requested sleepover activities was watching princess movies, & “Sleeping Beauty” was the chosen one. As it started, with Maggie sipping chocolate milk & me sipping red wine, I really read the beginning “storybook” shot for the first time out of the many, many times I’ve watched the movie. And noticed, for the very first time, that Sleeping Beauty’s parents had fertility problems:
In a far away land long ago lived a King and Queen. Many years had they longed for a child and finally their wish was granted.
Put a whole new spin in the whole fairies taking her into the forest & raising her for 16 years. Must have really sucked for the poor King & Queen.
Number Three: My frienemy, Facebook. I’ve built up an immunity to Facebook gut punches for the most part… it doesn’t send me into a tailspin of despair & melancholy anymore. Mostly. Even pregnancy announcements only cause a momentary lapse in sanity, although ultrasounds as profile pics still cause massive, irrational rage. Oh, ok, I can’t say I’m completely at peace with the double-edged sword that is social media — I laughed & laughed at this satirical Facebook news feed by “a little pregnant.” And laughed.
But every once in a while, something really stings — usually a stupid breast cancer game, or some such shit. And today, that happened. Perusing my news feed, I read:
Huh. And all this time, I was under the impression that Bobby & I were a family. That a family was two or more people who have long-term commitments to one another & who share goals & values. Silly me. Apparently, I’m not a “family” until I’m a “mommy.” So I wonder what Bobby & I are, exactly? Makes me think of Carrie & Big in “Sex in the City 2.” She gave Big a gift engraved with a classic Carrie quote, in that lovely & succinct way that her character has, reading “Me & you, just us two.” I choose THIS definition of family. I must choose this definition… I must know that Bobby & I WILL survive if we never have children, & we will do so happily. I’m not there yet, but I have to believe that it’s possible to be a family without children.
Of course, Anna Paquin’s quote (above) also references “making” a family. But for some reason, her words don’t bother me like this facebook status. Maybe because there’s the acceptance of possible infertility vs. the smug “I’ve arrived” attitude of mommyhood? I don’t know… my uterus probably just has a chip on its shoulder. If my uterus had a shoulder.
Oh, & in case you’re wondering, this particular Facebook “friend” got the good ol’ HIDE button on the news feed. Maybe Sarah @ callmemama has the right idea in just deactivating the whole damn thing. But then how would I keep up with the antics of the girl I hated the most in middle school who somehow turned out to be a decent human being?