Princeton Mom’s latest letter has left me flip-flopping between full-on Hulk-smash-rage and anxiously rushing out to find Mr. He Just May Be The One so I can get a bun in the oven before my next birthday. Just kidding, Mom! No babies up in this belly. But, seriously. If you haven’t read it already, you can check it out on the New York Times website, and you’ll see that it’s dripping with her usual bitchiness and also that it is filled with old news. Your prime baby-making days are gone by the time you’re 30.
We know this. But for a mid/late-twenties, single mom… it’s kind of stressful. The reality is that I had baby numero uno during my “prime” years, and I fully expected that I would have had a second by now. And maybe a third. But that’s not the case. I struggle with three things when it comes to “family planning”, the least of which being that I’m neither formally divorced nor am I in a serious relationship. I figure I should be at least one of these if I’m going to be up the stump again.
For one, I didn’t plan on having a huge gap between my children’s ages. If I got pregnant today, it would leave almost five years between F and the next child. That’s a long-ass time. Second to that, I worked my ass off for the career that I have right now and the reality is that adding baby number two would really jeopardize that – both now, and in the near future. I don’t think I’m Busy Miss Important, but I do think that my job is important. Finally, I don’t want to be an “old” Mom.
I know that sounds ridiculous, but I saw my (soon-to-be) ex-husband’s family dynamic and I heard the tales of woe that my monster-in-law cried about being nearly 40 when she had him. I don’t want to be approaching retirement age when my kid’s getting ready to go to college. I don’t want to be having a baby in my mid-late 40s, but I also don’t want to put off the rest of my twenties to raise another kid. (And I respect and applaud any woman who knows that she does want these things – we’re all different.
This is just how I happen to feel.)
But, do I even want another kid? I don’t know.
And if Princeton Mom knows anything about it, I have approximately one year and five months to figure that out. *Sigh*