Longings
Perhaps one of the deepest longings I have is to be a mother
someday. I would love to be one now, although I know it wouldn’t be practical.
Practicality be damned!
Oh who am I kidding? We all know I my never get to have my
dream of a half dozen rug rats running tame through my home, making messes,
creating masterpieces, pulling their sisters’ hair, laughing, shouting,
screaming, joking, imagining. That’s one of the reasons I want kids, and a
bunch of them. I want the noise and the wild, and the fierce love that is
synonymous with family in my mind.
I desperately desire the opportunity to create a new person,
and to help shape them for the world that should exist. Yes, I want to raise
idealistic, kind, children for a world that is becoming increasingly hostile. I
don’t know that my love, my soul mate, will allow this to happen. God must have
a great sense of irony, to give me an amazing, funny, articulate man who is
everything I could ever want, but who doesn’t really like kids or want to
reproduce.
We talk about it, and he really believes that he can
contribute nothing positive, genetically speaking, to a child. He says he will
be alright with one child, but he would prefer to adopt or use a sperm donor,
and while adoption is a noble thing, I can’t help but feel that he’s missing my
point: I want to have a child with him. I want to come together and grow a new
person who is a little like both of us, and raise him or her to be a better
person than we are.
