I just read a blog post written by someone who’s desperate to have children but has not – as yet – been successful. It’s Mother’s Day today so she was talking about the difficulty she was having when so much love, attention and effusive appreciation is being bestowed on women around her.
I completely get this, having been unsuccessful in the trying-to-be-a-Mother game myself. Many who know me will know I can be quite bitter and twisted about my lack of success about this, especially when it comes to others so easily. They know that I lived my life just ‘expecting’ that one day I too would have the fairytale – partner/husband and children… a family of my own. I mean, isn’t that what we are all raised to believe?
But it wasn’t to be. Any of it. I bitch about friends who tell me I’m lucky I can loll in the bath with champagne and a book, claiming I’d happily forsake my baths for 15-20 years if given the choice. I tell them I read entire books in an evening because there’s nothing else to do.
But… I’m becoming increasingly conscious that I also need to own my own feelings. I can’t begrudge someone else’s joy (or smugness) over their good fortune. But it’s hard. I constantly read joyous tweets about ‘cute things the kids did’ or bitchy ‘I hate my kids’ status updates, or I see parent/child television commercials that make me cry.
Friends have become pregnant easily, or with difficulty, in recent times and I know I need to be happy for them. I need to be able to think of them without being overcome by my perception of the ‘injustice’ of it all.
I like to think I’m slowly getting there: planning for a life alone; and not begrudging others their happiness. They have what I want. I’d be happy too. They have a right to their joy and contentment as much as they have a right to (hopefully only) sometimes wishing their kids had never been born. I know I also have a right to be envious, but I can’t let that envelop me.
Jokingly I sometimes think I need to focus more on those with problem-children, or the negatives (supermarket tantrums, sleepless nights and the like) so I can move to a position of some sort of ‘relief’ at my childlessness. Or at least somewhere in between.
To all of my female friends – have a great day… kids or no kids.