Every woman out there knows, the topic of babies is one that has plagued us for generations. People tend to be stupid and totally mindless at times, particularly when it comes to the matter of babies.
It seems that if a woman has reached a certain age, if she has a ring on her finger, if she has kids or if she has a stomach be it large or small the thought of babies is at the forefront of people minds.
Whether it is asking when your planning on having kids, having the next kid or the worst yet when your due, people (most, not all) feel the need to cross the unspoken boundary of motherhood and probe women on the plans for their uterus.
I have, on some level, always had the type of figure that no matter how thin I am, my stomach sticks out. I have a tiny waist, but to me it just makes my protruding stomach that much bigger. Now I have the delightful pleasure of having Crohn’s and at any given moment I can go from flat-ish tummy to ‘when’s the baby due’.
And it pisses me off. I will tell you why!
We aren’t ALLOWED to even entertain the thought of having children at this stage. Yep, my very friendly doctor has firmly stated that kids are a no-go until they deem me in good enough health to slip one past the goalie and bring a hellion into the world.
Any woman that has faced challenges when it comes to motherhood will attest, there is nothing worse than being asked about it.
Now prior to being told that our ‘family planning’ would be on hold – the kid matter was not one that bothered me that much. We know we would like them, we know we will have them and we knew it wouldn’t be until after we were married. The rest was unplanned, undecided and not something that was given much thought.
But those simple words of ‘no you can’t’ turned me into a rebellious child. I chucked a mental tanti and gave the world a solid middle finger while quickly professing ‘the hell I can’t, nobody tells me what I can and can’t do’. I will do what the hell I want.
Okay, not really. But holy-hotdogs I was mad.
So naturally, everything after that was baby central. Friends announcing they were having babies, Facebook announcing acquaintance are having or have had babies, people getting cute kittens and puppies and then, by far the worst, people asking me when we are going to start a family and worse still, whilst mid flare, when my baby is due?
I AM NOT PREGNANT, MY GUT HATES ME AND IT’S HUGE – BUT THANKS. FUCKTARD.
That’s not even the worst of it. You see for the first time in my life, I am genuinely jealous of people – some of them I don’t even know. I am jealous that they have the freedom to gain something I apparently want, I am jealous when I see little babies being born and cute pictures of their delightfully chubby faces all squished and pink, I am jealous that my right to choose what I want to do when I want to do it has been taken away.
Crohn’s strips of you so much. Your dignity, your carefree nature, your ability to throw caution to the wind, your freedom to eat what you want, your ability to be thoughtless in your decision making. Your right to make choices.
I no longer have a choice. I have to do what I am told to do. And I have to do it because it is the best thing to do – for me. And it’s a real kick in the guts!
Would I risk the life of my unborn child. Fuck no.
Would I risk my ability to raise said child because I was not in tip-top shape. Fuck no.
Would I risk my health when I know it’s to my own determinant. Fuck no.
Kids are up against it from the moment they are born. The world is a battlefield both physically and mentally and our little ones absorb so much. If you listen to the news, our kids will inherit a world with damaged seas, holey ozone, polluted water, bigotry, terrorism, president Trump. They are already in for a hell of a ride. So when I get all sulky and feel like turning to a bag of M&M’s (peanut, not plain) I remind myself that although I can’t control my Crohn’s I can do what I know is best.
I know that my squished up little red-faced hellion will come to life one day. I know I will carry that little peanut in a body that can deal with bringing it to life. I know I will be a completely neurotic-kick arse tiger mother. I know it will happen.
I have no idea when we will get the go-ahead, but I know that when it happens it will be the exact right time.
In the meantime, I will continue to torture myself by looking at all the beautiful baby pictures and annoucements, facebook stalking their progress pictures and despite the twinge of jealously I will feel – I know it is nothing compared to the adoring happiness I hold knowing that one day I will have that.
Because Crohn’s may take away my freedom of choice, but it doesn’t take away my ability to dream. It doesn’t take away my hope and it’s never come across a woman more determined than me!