A Tug at the Uterus-Strings

I'm going to take a break from documenting our Arizona trip for a while to talk about something that's been on my mind a lot recently: babies.

Don't worry, I'm not preggo and have no plans to be (in fact, I have very well-executed plans NOT to be). But that's kind of the issue -- I have these crazy ideas in my head I've never had before. Ideas that whisper in a creepy, cooing voice, "Wouldn't it be neat to be pregnant? Wouldn't it be nice to have a baby of your very own?"

I've been having these conflicted, somewhat deranged thoughts for close to a year now. I think it probably started around the time I was in the hospital with a still-ambiguous mass on one of my ovaries. It was treated and [supposedly] resolved, but I am fairly confident that my hormones were thrown out of whack afterwards and still aren't back to normal (and may never be). So I'm chalking most of this baby fever up to a case of the crazies, courtesy of my messed-up hormones.

A few of my close friends from high school are expecting, and many, many more acquaintances (both older and younger than I am now) are already mothers. Those who have children are absolutely in love with them and swear on how being a mom beats everything else by a mile.

Again, I'm conflicted. I feel this overwhelming agreement, understanding, and kinship that oh, yes, a child is the most wonderful gift you could ever receive; but simultaneously: Hm, you must be a masochistic egomaniac, that is the only reason anyone would ever do such a stupid, stupid thing!

I often see tiny babies in the grocery store and my heart just melts and I crave one of my own, and my mind wanders to what it might be like. It's typically a girl that I think of, and she would of course be BEAUTIFUL -- she would have Andy's* dark complexion and freckles and my blue eyes, and she would be incredibly brilliant because, really, how could any child of ours not be? And I think about how sweet it would be to hold our baby and play with her and teach her things, and how I know she would just melt Andy's heart, too, and our parents would be so thrilled, so doting; maybe I could stay home with her and that could be my full-time job, just to love someone all day... It's all very appealing.

And then I think about potty-training, and 3 a.m. feedings, and how paranoid I would be that my child would grow up to be fat like me, and so then I would probably starve her or put her on some really extreme feeding program, like breastmilk untill she was six or something insane like that, and whether or not to let her watch TV because I think it's probably bad for early development to be exposed to that much consumerism but I also remember how much I loved Sesame Street and it seems cruel to make her into a weirdo who doesn't know what TV is when she gets to preschool, and OH SHIT I'll only have nasty, smelly boys anyway, because all Andy's family is boys and brothers and they all have boys upon boys and the man's chromosomes dominate the sex of the baby, right? so I'll be doomed to never have a little girl, and would I really love a child if it wasn't what I wanted? would I treat it differently? and whether or not to have natural childbirth, because -- in strictly philosophical terms -- I think everyone's issues probably stem from birth trauma, so how would I minimize that? and how can you avoid it? and why even have a kid if pushing it out's just going to fuck it up beyond repair anyway, not to mention everything else you'll ever do that will totally ruin it and make it a neurotic messed up adult?

Then I calm down and count my blessings that I am not a mother, and I do not have to worry about those things.

Yet.


*Perhaps one of the most disturbing facets of this daydream is Andy's automatic inclusion. When we first started dating, and mostly ever since, I professed that I didn't want kids and he agreed that he didn't either. The only thing stopping him from getting a vasectomy is the knowledge that, as many people do, he might change his mind about kids someday. So we were happy in our decision to be childless, and it was a non-issue in our relationship. But since this hormonal fantasizing has begun, Andy's been dragged into it against his will. He is now forced to imagine his life with a child, and it [understandbly] makes him very, very uncomfortable. I try to make it crystal clear to him that I am making no plans to have a baby and do not actually want one right now, but he is still generally nervous about the subject, given my past history of being impulsive, sneaky, and selfish.

The obvious reasons I see Andy as the father of my prospective children are: 1) because we plan to spend the rest of our lives together, and 2) I literally can't imagine my future without him. When I think of anything in the future -- buying a house, having a career, growing older -- I only think about it in terms of Andy being there, too, and how he would be involved and how it would affect him. That's just how my mind works now.

There Is No Arizona

Remember how I said my next post would be coming from sunny Arizona? Well, it's not, but I think it's probably better that way, because now I can chronicle the entire trip (yay! another super-long blog, right?)

Friday, May 29
Got up at 3 a.m. to catch a plane out of New Orleans by 6. I vaguely remember a layover in Houston, but other than that the hours of 4-9 are pretty foggy. We rented a car in Phoenix and immediately drove to the Arizona Science Museum. It was definitely geared more towards the younger crowd (think 12 and under), but it was still a fun time. They had a whole floor devoted to Lego sculptures -- who wouldn't love that?

After a few hours at the Science Museum, we were pretty pooped so we retired to our hotel for some rest, followed by a swim in the enormous pool. Still on Louisiana time, we woke up at roughly 5 a.m. Arizona time to this view from our window:

Saturday, May 30
We originally set out to see a show at the Great Arizona Puppet Theater, but once we got there we decided it looked like another "kid" thing, so we headed the three blocks over to the Phoenix Art Museum. It was pretty big, and full of very cool stuff. Our favorite was probably "You Who Are Getting Obliterated in the Dancing Swarm of Fireflies", a small room with mirrored walls, ceiling, and floor that was pitch black except for strings of colored LED lights hung from the ceiling. You couldn't tell where the walls or ceiling or floor started or ended, and it was really incredible and cool.

The museum also had a wing of fashion art that was one of the most badass things I've ever seen. Fortuny gowns, Pucci prints, original Balenciaga designs...I was pretty giddy, and Andy at least enjoyed seeing how silly I was acting.

After the art museum, we decided to see one last Phoenix attraction, the Mystery Castle. We originally weren't sure if it would be cool or not, but it was amazing. A man built the castle out of things he found (and sometimes stole) in the desert around Phoenix. It was just full of crazy things, like an organ salvaged from a saloon in Tombstone and a sofa designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. Definitely one of my favorite places we went on the whole vacation, and I highly recommend it if you ever visit Phoenix.

That evening, we picked up Mr. Greg and Mrs. Marsha from the airport and came back to the hotel to rest.

Sunday, May 31
We got up early to make it to the Desert Botanical Garden outside Phoenix. It was full of different desert wildflowers and cacti -- lots of stuff I'd only seen in pictures. There was also an exhibit of colorful blown glass inspired by the Arizona desert that was pretty incredible. I got a little overheated and was ready to leave after an hour or so, but it was a really unique place to visit and I'm glad we went.

From there, we drove a few hours west to Sedona, which is one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. Mrs. Marsha and Mr. Greg dropped Andy and me off at the Out of Africa Wildlife Park where we went on a "safari" and got to see all kinds of animals up close. They had a show called "Tiger Splash" where the staff essentially just played around in a pool with two big tigers in a swimming pool. On the safari, I got to feed a giraffe named Kebo, who wrapped his giant black tongue around my entire hand -- it was a little gross but very cool.

I think that's enough for today. I'll try to finish blogging about the trip in the next few days.