Bouncing Babies Everywhere

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

When I have said that to several of my friends who are ordinarily very wise and supportive, what I have gotten back is a somewhat grating reminder that you can't have expectations about what's going to happen.

Thanks, and fuck off. (I can say that because none of the people who have said that actually read this blog.)

I'm well aware that in reality, one cannot expect life to go according to a preconceived notion, that there is no "supposed to" (a la Pleasantville). I'm well aware that my semi-conscious expectations for my life were based on my mother's template, but I have been making choices since I got divorced to keep me from repeating her mistakes. Some of them have taken longer to make than they should have, but everyone - including me - agrees that I have been on a positive learning curve. I have no desire to go back and buy into the bad situations that I have chosen to leave behind, situations which would have most likely gotten me the external markers of what I currently feel I'm missing.

But it feels really, really fucked up and disorienting to be where I am, particularly on days when I find out someone else who has a husband and a house and a baby is having another baby, and that feeling is not going to go away just because someone tells me to face reality. I'm facing it just fine, thanks - the proof is in my continued behavior of living alone (and rejecting potential boyfriends that turn out to be crazy) and generally fending for myself. However, there's a loneliness that comes from a desire for more than this, and not just more socializing with friends, thankyouverymuch for the suggestion. I want to be sharing a history with a partner, and I'm not. I want to be in a family, and I'm not. I want to be someone's partner in raising children, and I'm not.

(I imagine this is like what young men feel when they get through school and can't find a job. Still living with their parents, looking for work - how did I get here? This isn't right. Time is slipping away, and I'm getting further and further off track.)

At this point, you're rolling your eyes at the seeming ridiculousness of a 29 year old discussing lack of time. But when I was in my early 20s I had single friends who were 30, and it seemed like I had forever before I had to think about that. I didn't - the time was gone before I knew what happened. Now, it doesn't seem like I have forever before I have to confront declining fertility and an upswing in the chances of scary pregnancy outcomes. So even though B. tells me that what I want it on its way, but the defect of the future is that there's just no tracking number and so I don't know when it will arrive, that is only partially reassuring. There just isn't as much time to wait as there used to be before I have to do another major revision in my mental picture of the future.

The counterpoint is that I have twice this week been confronted with vignettes from others' lives that reminded me of much I hate being in a relationship where "mute irrationality" is the order of the day - my partner promising to take a certain action, not taking it, and refusing or being incapable of providing me with any explanation. None. Not even something that doesn't make sense. Just none. That scenario happens so often that I know I must be inviting it, but I always end up feel powerless and unheard. I'm not willing to live like that anymore, no matter what "benefits" I get out of that relationship.

In fact, there are many things I'm not willing to accept anymore just to feel like I'm making progress towards being in a permanent relationship (let's all say the scary word: married). I'm not able to make a peaceful and welcoming household with a non-vegetarian and I refuse to try again, I'm not willing to put myself into a scenario where I am the only one who cleans, or where the gap between preferred levels of cleanliness is such that I'm always going to lose big. I won't be someone's financial manager or line of credit.

So I'm cutting down the pool to a tiny, tiny number of potential co-conspirators to ensure I don't trade away my quality of life just to fill a perceived hole. That means it's going to take longer to find someone, or that it might not happen for another decade or at all. (I haven't even begun to emotionally cope with the second half of that sentence, btw.) The fact that I'm sticking to the restrictions in spite of the chemicals continually dumping into my bloodstream saying "baby now, baby now, baby now" should be enough proof for anyone who knows me that I'm doing what I'm supposed to.

So if you please, let's skip the big talk about how I just need to readjust my expectations and spend more time with my friends. As long as I'm not sabotaging myself on a daily or weekly basis, it's ok that on days when there are babies everywhere, it's just going to feel like my life is way off track of where I expected it to be, and where I want it to be, and I'm going to feel unhappy about that.

Thanks. Now back to work.